To The End
by Zachary Osgood
Summary: This is my book "To The End", this book takes place in World War Two and tells the stories of multiple men on the fighting front from the struggle in Europe to the Pacific islands. It tells the life of a man fighting in Europe, a sailor on the USS Indianapolis, a man fighting with the First Marines in the Pacific, and a man trying to survive as a POW for the Japanese.


TO THE END By: Zac Osgood

This is my book "To The End", this book takes place in World War Two, and tells the stories of the men that fight from the beaches of Normandy, to the cold of Bastogne, Iwo Jima, to Okinawa, Peleliu, aboard the USS Indianapolis, and even to the fight for survival for one Marine in a Japanese POW camp. Readers, this is "To The End".

Authors comment: Like a lot of my books, I have not been able to read over before publishing, please help me by reporting any grammar issues or confusing parts.

Warning:

This book contains material that may not be suitable to young readers, this book shows the language of soldiers at this time, which involves swearing and some inappropriate language, and graphic violence.

Prologue

The war came unexpectedly for us. After the Great War, we never thought we would be going back to war with Germany. Right after the Jap's bombed Pearl Harbor, we all knew we would be going to war with Japan. With Hitlers axis powers of Italy and Japan, the war will not end well. Hitler ordered for his men to never surrender and fight for the fatherland. As for the Japanese, they are ruthless, they will never give up, never surrender. The Jap's are willing to die as long as they kill you first, the Jap's will perform banzi and kamikaze attacks, which is a fearless suicide attack. Our U.S. Navy are constantly under attack by Jap fighter planes that commit to kamikazes and run their planes into our battleships. Killing themselves and anyone in their path.

Hitler dominates the skies with his Luftwaffe and his army of tanks like Panzers and Tigers keep our ground forces in check. Hitlers SS are merciless, they don't care about you or that you have a family, a lot of them are just a bunch Nazi basterds, if I surrender, the Gestapo could use me at a torture doll. Yes, in war there are two options, live or die. You can live and let the memories of the past haunt you forever, or die on the field or die in captivity.  
This is our story. The stories of our fellow brave American brothers and cousins that are willing to fight in France, Italy, Germany, Iwo Jima, Guadalcanal, Okinawa, Peleliu, and further into the Philippines, then surround Japan and Berlin.

***  
*Chapter-1*  
Johnny "Hey Johnny!" 12 year old Fred yells riding his bike down the busy Chicago street, "Where the hell are you going?"  
"Watch your mouth Fred," I scold him.  
"Ah shucks Johnny! Everyone swears today."  
"Do it again and this time I'll tell your parents, and you know they'll put a nice bar of soap in your mouth."  
"Pssh! Alright….So where you off to?"  
I start walking down the street with Fred who rides his bike next to me.  
"Heading to the recruitment office," I said, "I'm joining the army."  
"Ha! You in the army!" Fred laughed, "Thats a laugh! Even if you joined you couldn't kill one fucken Kraut!"  
I stop and give Fred the look.  
"I mean…." Fred said, "you couldn't kill a Kraut."  
"Thats better, I think," I said.  
We continue going down the street.  
"Hows Danny?" Fred asks.  
My older brother Dan has been fighting in the Japanese theater for the past five months.  
"Oh," I said, "Fine, still alive. Just killing off Jap's and jumping island-to-island to find any Jap's. Dan says he isn't feeling well though, some damn disease he caught, makes it so he can't leave the shitter for a while."  
"Oh," Fred says, "Well, I'm off. Tell Danny I wish him best."  
"I will," I said just as Fred bikes off.  
I stop at the end of the block and see a corner building across the street that has an American flag draped over the side of the building, a picture of Uncle Sam in the window saying "I want you", and above the building entrance is a sign that reads "Army Recruiting Station". I step off the sidewalk and onto the street, I run across the street while watching out for cars and busses. Cars would honk at me when I got in the way and the busses wouldn't slow down so I have book it across. When I get across I step into the recruitment building.  
The building is big with desks everywhere, at every desk is an army officer or soldier in their dress uniform helping sign new recruits up. The whole building smells of cigarette smoke, coffee, and dust. As for noise, there is nothing but the sound of talking and typewriters clinking and clanking. "Can I help you?" A corporal in his dress asks me.  
"Oh, yes," I said, "I'd like to sign up for the army."  
"Oh great!" the corporal said, "I can help you with that, this way."  
The corporal leads me to a desk, he sits on one side and I sit on the other.  
"Alright," the corporal said reaching for the typewriter, "What's your name?"  
"Johnson Von Schmitty," I said.  
"Von Schmitty!" The corporal laughs, "A German name?" The corporal looks at me suspiciously.  
"Yes," I said, "My parents are from Germany, I was born in America, my mother was pregnant with me when she immigrated here with my father."  
"Sprechen sie Deutsch?" the corporal asked 'do you speak German'.  
"ja fließend," I said 'yes fluently', "I said 'yes fluently'."  
"Ah! Like a real Kruat! You would make a great interpreter."  
"Does that mean you're sending me to Europe?"  
"Ideally. Now when were you born?"  
"February 20th, 1926."  
"That means you are now…."  
"18."  
"Well you meet the age requirements. Although I am going to need to see proof of this."  
I pull out my wallet and hand him my drivers licence.  
The corporal takes the licence and grabs a magnifying glass. He puts the glass up to the licence and takes a look.  
"Good enough for me," the corporal said, "Do you have any siblings? What is the name of you parents or guardians? Spouse? Children?"  
He hands me back my licence.  
"Yes," I said while putting my licence back, "I have one brother named Danny Von Schmitty. My mothers name is Hilda Van Schmitty, her maiden name is Hilda Van Burkhalter and my fathers name is Wilhelm Von Schmitty. I do not have a wife, nor children."  
The corporal types down the information I gave him.  
"Alright," the corporal said, "You shouldn't require a parent signature since you're 18. Now just walk right into that room over there and you will get a physical."  
The corporal points to a door in the back of the room.  
I walk over to the door and step inside. In the room is a man in a uniform with a Red Cross patch on his arm, the symbol for a medic.  
"Step onto the scale," the medic ordered.  
I step onto the scale in the corner of the room.  
The doctor stepped up to the scale and adjusted the weights. Once he got the scale even, he takes the paper from my hand and writes down my weight.  
"197 lbs," the medic said, "Step up to the wall."  
I look at the wall next to the scale and see a measuring tape that reaches up to seven feet.  
I step up to the wall and stand up straight.  
"6 foot….1 inch," the medic said writing it down, "Now just relax."  
I step away from the wall and look around the room. There is a small wooden chair, sticks to check your throat, cotton balls, flashlight, and some other medical stuff.  
"SMACK!" A loud bang echos in the room.  
I jump with fright and look at the doctor who is holding a yardstick. He seem'd to have hit the counter.  
"What the hell was that for?!" I yell.  
The medic looks back at the paper.  
"Hearing test….Passed," the medic said.  
I look at him with confusion.  
"What?" the doctor said, "You wouldn't think we would send a deaf man into combat, would you? Now, have you had any illness or have been hospitalized recently?"  
"Uh, no, not that I recall," I said.  
The doctor writes something else on the paper.  
"Sit down on the chair," the doctor points to the small wooden chair.  
I sit down.  
The doctor takes a rubber hammer and pounds on my knees, my leg's jolt with the feeling.  
"Alright," the doctor said, "Now drop your pant's."  
I look at him with confusion.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Your pants," the medic repeats, "Drop them. You have to take the hernia test."  
"Dammit," I said pulling my pants off.  
The doctor puts on a pair of white cloth gloves and gets handsy.  
"Turn you head to the right and cough," the doctor said.  
I turn my head and cough.  
"Now turn left and cough."  
I turn my head in the opposite direction and cough. "Well good knews," the doctor said, "You don't have a hernia."  
"Thats good," I said.  
"You passed your health test, you're free to go."  
I pull up my pants and take the paper from the doctor, then leave the building. When I step outside into the sunny afternoon, I have a look at my recruitment paper, it reads:

United States Army Registration Papers You have joined the army and vow to serve under the orders of your generals George Marshall, Douglas MacArthur, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Henry H. Arnold, and Omar Bradley. You have sworn to take orders from your Commander and Commander-in-Chief President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  
Your task is simple, fight for your country and to never give up.

REMEMBER WHAT YOU SERVE FOR *Dignity*Honor*Valor*Service*Sacrifice*Duty _

NAME:_JOHNSON_VON_SCHMITTY_ Date:_7/15/44_

Date of Birth:_Febuary_20th,_1926_ Army unit:  
Date of Death:_ 60th_Illinois_Regement_

Mother:_Hilda_Van_Schmitty_ Spouse:_  
Maiden:_Hilda_Van_Burkhalter_ Children:_

Father:_Wilhelm_Von_Schmitty_

Dogtag number:_568099382_ Army career: Interpreter

Language: English and German

You will spend 30 days in boot camp, there you will learn how to handle a rifle, how to treat wounds, and all the other necessities to staying alive.

Your boot camp you are assigned to is Camp Ellis, Illinois. Report to your boot camp by: _7/23/44_ at 8:00 AM.  
HEATH PAPERS-  
_

Height: 6 foot, 1 inch

Weight: 197 lbs. American_redcross_2012_

Hearing test: positive

Hernia result: positive

Reflex test: positive

Current/past illness: negative

Hospitalized currently/recently: negative _

If you are captured P.O.W.

-When in the field of combat, if you are taken P.O.W (prisoner of war). You are entitled worldwide by the Geneva Convention to some of your own rights while in captivity. You will be explained your rights by the Geneva Convention at your stationed boot camp.

-If you are a P.O.W, the American Red Cross are entitled to send relief packs to your camps. Each pack will contain medical supplies, a chocolate bar, soap, a razor, entertainment, and even a little food.

-During you time as P.O.W, you are allowed to send letters or even sometimes voice recordings home to your family. There are regulations to sending messages home to your family though.  
I look away from the papers to see two marines in their dress uniforms walking down the sidewalk towards me. They stop and look at the army recruiting station.  
"Fucken army," one of the marines says.  
Those words put me over the edge.  
"Hey!" I yell at the marines, "You fucken marines always thinking your better than the army, if it wasn't for the army you would be fighting the damn Jerries!"  
"Ha! Ha!," one of the marines laughs, "You know kid, you know what the army is to the marines? The army is the marines bitch! You think we can't take on the Germans?! You couldn't last one day against those fucken Jap's!"  
"You're bluffing!" "Am I?...Chonsie!" The marine looks at his companion, "Hold this piece of army shit down."  
The marine named Chonsie walks over and grabs my arms forcing me to look closer at his companion.  
"I spent two years in the Jap occupied islands," the marine said, "Have a look at this."  
The marine yanks my head down so that I am looking at his legs. He pulls his right pant leg up and reveals scars from torn flesh, with a chunk of his calf missing.  
"That was a Jap morder that hit only five feet from me," the marine said, the marine then pulls up the sleeve on his left arm and reveals a long scar going along his arm, "Got any idea where that came from wiseass?"  
I shake my head.  
"Japanese katana," he said, "Some fucken Jap officer banzi attacked me with his sword. Got me right in the arm, if Chonsie wasn't there to plant him one in the back, I'd be Jap sushi."  
Chonsie lets go of me.  
The marine looks at me dead in the eyes.  
"Be thankful you're going to Europe," the marine said, "Because the Germans are at least willing to surrender. The Japs, they will never surrender, they are willing to die….Good luck kid, come back to you mother alive."  
The marines walk off down the sidewalk and I remain in shock of what just happend.

Chapter: 2 Peter

May 15th, 1944,  
I arrived here in San Diego, California this afternoon, it's now nightfall. I will spend 6 weeks, (42 days) in a boot camp for the Marine Corp. I joined the First Marines or otherwise known as "Red 1". Currently the First Marines are fighting in the Japanese occupied islands.  
My name is Peter Miller, I'm from Chicago, Illinois. I'm 20 years old, married to my beautiful wife Linda, and my wife is expecting my first child in the fall. I joined the Marines since I have been told that they are, well, "the best of the best". Plus the pay seems well, it could go a long way for the baby. When I arrived here at Camp Pendleton, they showed me what what I will be trained to do here. Basically, its just to kill Jap's. They are going to show me how to handle weapons like thompson machine guns, M1 garands, M1 carbines, grenades, mortars, pistols, and bayonet attacks.  
Training starts tomorrow morning.

Peter Miller

I set my journal on the ground next to my bunk. For sleeping quarters we are put in small barracks which is like sleeping in a narrow hallway. When we all arrived we were given, a tan uniform which is a tan button down shirt, tan tie, tan pants, black belt, and a tan dress cap, we have a nicer dress uniform which is like wearing a suit, P.T. clothes, and combat clothing and gear. All of our gear is kept under our bunks.  
Today I had a complete tour of the camp. The area of land is huge, there is a whole field with tents everywhere, a firing range, the woods are for combat drills, there are buildings meant for medic training, vehicle operation school, communications school which is where a lot of Navajo people are being trained to be this thing called "Code Talkers", there is even beach combat training. Of course there is also the basic buildings like the mess hall, armory, camp commanders office, hospital, and officers quarters. Outside there is an obstacle course, where there is a rope ladder, twenty foot wall with a rope to climb up, even a muddy pit where we must crawl under with barb wire, while over our heads there are men tossing fresh pigs blood and guts arounds us to crawl in. There is also, just through the woods is a big stretch of beach, that the Pacific Ocean runs up onto. I was told that here we will be trained in how to handle beach combat and how to operate and get out of landing crafts. In the center of camp there are long lines of military vehicles everything from Jeeps to tanks. There are lines full of Jeeps with M.G.'s strapped to the back, there are vans with a Red Cross on the side and on the back doors, there are bulldozers, trucks, motorcycles, halftracks, M4 Shermans, M43AE8's, and M24 Chaffee. Mostly just light and medium tanks. "You ready for tomorrow?" a guy named Jimmy Shaw said next to me at his bunk.  
"I guess," I said, "Gotta start at some point."  
"Yeah, why do I got a feeling we are fucked?"  
"Why you say that?"  
"You kidding? We are at a boot camp ment for the Marine Corps and in a few weeks we will be going to shithole Japan."  
I thought about that for a second.  
"Yep, you're right," I said, "We are in for some deep shit….So what did you sign up for Jim?"  
"Field medic," Jim said, "Tomorrow we will take on the obstacle course, then in the afternoon we are to report at the medical training school. What did you sign up for?"  
"Typical infantryman."  
"Huh, well see you in the morning."  
Jim turned over on his bunk and went to sleep.  
"Yeah," I said to myself.

***  
"Everyone up!" Captain Lunes, our drill instructor, orders walking into the barracks, "Everyone up! Get in your P.T. cloths and report outside the barracks for P.T. in ten minutes!"  
We all literally and figuratively crawl out of bed and grab our P.T. cloths. I guess we are not allowed to take a morning shower.  
Once we have our clothes we all undress in front of each other and put on our physical training clothes. The clothing we are issued is a skin tight white shirt and small black shorts that reach up almost to our asses.  
When we are all ready we scramble out the barracks door in stand in attention, like how we were all showed how to yesterday. Captain Lunes stands right in front of us looking at us all. We met Lunes yesterday when we arrived he seemed like a nice enough guy, but when it comes time for training he turns into a true asshole. Lunes is dressed in his tan uniform.  
"Start running!" Lunes orders, "Come on lets go!" Lunes turns and starts to run down the row of barracks. We run around the surrounding barracks close behind Lunes.  
Lunes leads us to the woods where we are to run at times on a road and other times in the woods to doge trees and fallen logs.  
"Lets go!" Lunes yells at us as we go by him, "If you little magots want to leave just say so! it can be arranged!"  
Lunes goes running up alongside one the guys from our barracks who I thinks name is Melloy.  
"Melloy!" Lunes yells in his ear, "You want to quit?! All you have to do is say!"  
"No sir," Melloy mutters.  
"What's that?!"  
"No sir!"  
"What the fuck are you trying to say Melloy?!"  
"No sir!"  
Lunes backs off from Melloy and watches all of us pass by.  
"Keep it up!" he yells, "Were not done!"

***  
(3 hours later)  
"Alright!" Lunes yells, "Hit the obstacle course. You better be running your ass off to each one! If I see one mistake you are doing it over again! Now go!"  
We all start running to the first obstacle which is a giant rope wall that we must climb up then use a rope to crawl on to get to the ground again. It doesn't help that we have our combat uniform on to do this. At least we are not having to carry our packs. So we just have to wear the coat, ammo belt, helmet, boots, and of course your pants.  
"Come on lets go!" Lunes yells at the bottom of the rope wall.  
As we climb some people are unlucky and lose their grip on the rope and fall to the ground, its almost as bad as when they fall of the ropes they must use to get down. When someone would fall they would land with a thud and a moan. If you are able to get up Lunes would have you do it again.  
Finally I get to the top and begin to climb down the rope. I lose my grip a few times but am able to get it back.  
Once my feet hit the ground I run for the next obstacle, which is another wall but is made of wood and you must climb up it using a rope. I wait my turn to get the rope and when it comes, I plant my feet on the wall, and one step at a time I pull myself up. Some men are just as unlucky as when they took on the rope wall, they would lose their grip and fall to the ground, even land on another man. Once I am over that obstacle, I climb down using a rope on the otherside. Next obstacle is the pit with barbed wire above. Above the barb wire are troops with rifles firing blanks, there are also troops throwing pigs blood and guts onto us. The smell is revolting.  
"Come on get on the ground!" Lunes yells at me.  
I lunge to the ground and start to crawl through the blood and guts. The smell and the conditions overwhelm me and I through up right onto myself.  
Finally I am out of the pit, I get up and start running to the next obstacle.  
The next challenge is a large area of ground covered with mud.  
"When you get to this mud!" Lunes yells, "You are to lunge to the ground, when I tell you to get up! Get up! When I say down! get down! Now! Down!"  
I and everyone around us lunge into the mud.  
"Up!" Lunes yells.  
Everyone jumps up and starts running.  
"Down!"  
Everyone gets muddy again.  
"Up!"  
Everyone gets up.  
"Down!"  
Mud.  
"Up!"  
Everyone struggles to get up.  
"Down!" One of our men doesn't get down.  
Lunes runs over to him.  
"My fucken God! Get your ass down!"  
Lunes aggressively pushes the man to the ground.  
"If you gutless basterds want to quit just say so!"  
"NO SIR!" everyone yells in unison.  
"Up!" Lunes continues.  
Up again.  
"Down!"  
Splat.  
"Up!"  
On our feet.  
Finally we are at the end of the muddy area. "Everyone form lines!" Lunes orders.  
We all form into six lines with ten men in each.  
"Drop and give me twenty!" Lunes orders us to do twenty push ups, "You are to do twenty fucken push ups, and when you are done. Go through the obstacle course again! You are to do this five times before you are finished!"  
Everyone drops to the ground and starts doing push ups.

(2 hours later)  
We are finally done with morning P.T.. Now we are all at the mess hall for lunch. We all get some soup with potatoes and carrots in a broth that might as well be water.  
People walk into the mess hall from today's P.T. tired, stiff, and with blisters on their feet. Everyone is dressed in their tan uniform. We were able to shower after P.T.. There was so much dirt that was washed off everyone in the shower rooms.  
Jim comes up and sits at the table I am at. He has bruises and cuts on his face.  
"Fuck man," Jim said.  
"I know," I said, "P.T. will be the death of all of us."  
"Five people have already quit."  
"You're kidding."  
"Nope, all from barracks 16."  
"Jezz."  
"I got to go to medical school after this."  
"Yeah? I think we are suppose to report to the firing range in a half hour."  
"That should be fun."  
"As long as it ain't the fucked up shit that we had to do with P.T.."  
"Hopefully," Jim says with his mouth full of potato. "Yeah, we will all be dead before the Jap's reach us."  
Jim coughs on his soup.  
Just then another soldier comes up to us with is lunch. He is tall, thin, and has black hair.  
"Can I sit heres?" the boy asks with a Brooklyn accent.  
"Nobody's sittin there is there?" Jim said in a smartass tone.  
The kid sits down.  
"My names Joey," the kid said, "Joey Fritz."  
"You from Brooklyn?" Jim said with his own Brooklyn accent.  
"Yeah wiseass. Whats your name? Where you from?"  
"My name's Jim, I live here in Cali' in San Francisco."  
"Yeah well what's your story pal?" Fritz said to me.  
I swallow my soup.  
"Peter Miller," I said, "I'm from Chicago."  
"Chicago!" Fritz said, "You one of Capone's boys?"  
"Na….Thats my brother."  
Fritz laughs.  
"Yeah," I said, "Well you one of Lucky Lucianos men?"  
"Psh," Fritz scoffed, "I ain't in with them fuckers. Forget about about it."  
"Really?" Jim said, "You look like one of them fuckers."  
"I'm just from Brooklyn! Why is it every yank and yokel thinks that everyone from Brooklyn carries a tommy under their coat?"  
"Because you do."  
"Do you honestly think I got a gun under here?"  
"Well you got a gun, yours just hasn't ever been fired."  
We all laugh. Fritz laughs with soup in his mouth.  
"Oh please," Fritz said, "You two probably never fired yours either."  
"Really?" I said, "Then how come my wife is pregnant with my kid?"  
"What your fake girl?"  
I pull out a picture of my wife from my wallet and show Fritz.  
"Holy shit!" Fritz says with excitement, "You ain't lying, she's beautiful! Hey, if she decides to leave you, tell her about me!"  
"Fuck you!" I said smiling.  
We all laugh again.  
"Alright," Fritz said, "We better get to the shootin' range."  
"Yep," I said.  
"Well," Jim said, "You do, I got medic school."  
"You a medic?" Fritz said, "Well we know whoevers got you is gonna die."  
"Ha, ha," Jim said.  
Fritz pulls out a box of cigarettes.  
"Smoke's?" Fritz offers while putting one in his mouth.  
"Sure," I said grabbing one. Jim grabs one as well, at the same time Fritz pulls out a lighter and lights up, then hands it to us. "Alright," Fritz said taking a puff, "Let's get out of here."  
We all jump to our feet and walk out the door of the mess hall.  
When we get outside the mess hall, Jim runs off waving goodbye and Fritz and I begin to walk over to the shooting range. "God damn!" Fritz holars with excitement, "This will be fun! Hope to get my hand's on one of them thompsons. Those Jap bastards wouldn't know what hit em'."  
"Heh, yeah," I said, "I'll just take whatever the hell they give me."  
"Yeah well, I don't want to sound like a complete asshole but I hope they don't give me one of them Springfield rifles. I don't think I could handle having to reload after every single shot."  
"Hey at least it ain't a musket."  
"Psh, might as well be. I don't need to fight with some piece of shit my granddad used."  
"Hey do we gotta be in our combat cloths?"  
"Na, only when we simulate combat in the woods, but that's gonna be while."  
We arrive at the shooting range and join the rest of our men. Everyone is standing in lines at ease.  
"Attention!" Lunes comes out of nowhere, he is holding a rifle.  
We all snap into attention.  
"Now pay attention!" Lunes said, "This is a M1 30. Carbine rifle. You all have a range of weapons to choose from. Even some similar to what was used in the Great War."  
"Also known as muskets!" someone yells.  
Everyone laughs.  
"Who said that?!" Lunes yells.  
The man who said that tries not to reveal himself, but fails.  
"You!" Lunes yells, "Weekend pass suspended! Nobody fucken speaks out of tern!...Now back to your training. This is how you load your M1."  
Lunes begins load the M1 while explaining the process. He grabs a magazine with .30 caliber bullets crammed into it.  
"This is your ammunition!" Lunes says, "For every magazine you get fifteen shots! When all bullets are fired, your empty magazine will eject automatically. When it's out, you put a new magazine in!"  
Lunes walks over to the firing range and looks down the barrel aimed at a target.  
"BANG!BANG!BANG!" The rifle fires at the target.  
Lunes takes out the magazine and checks the chamber for bullets. He then walks over to a table and grabs another weapon. This time he walks up to us with what looks like an M.G..  
"This is a M1918A2 Browning Automatic Rifle," Lunes said, "Just call it a damn Browning Automatic, none of that number shit. This baby can fire 120-150 rounds for every minute!"  
Lunes takes the rifle and starts to load it like he did for the M1.  
Lunes walks over to the firing range and looks down sight.  
"BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!" The M.G. fires rapidly.  
Lunes takes out the magazine like he did to the M1.  
He then grabs another rifle from the table.  
"This!" Lunes said, "Is a M1 .30 Caliber! It is very similar to the M1 Carbine, only this one has eight shots."  
Lunes walks back to the table and sets the M1 down and picks up another rifle, this one is a Thompson Submachine Gun.  
Everyone starts to whistle at sight of the gun.  
"Quite!" Lunes orders, "This is a Thompson M.G.! This is your best friend and perhaps on of the best weapons you could have on the battlefield!"  
Lunes starts to load the thompson he shoves the long magazine into the chamber. "This M.G. carries .45 ammunition," Lunes said, "Has a range of fifty yards and shoves out 725 rpm. You got fifty shots."  
Lunes walks over to the range.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" the thompson rages.  
Everyones jaws drop.  
Lunes puts the Thompson down and grabs another gun.  
"You may also get a Reising Machine gun," Lunes said, "It's similar to a Thompson, there are two models a Model 50 and Model 55. Both are the same just different stocks. I don't want to hear any bitching about what kind you got!...There is also another kind of rifle called a M7 Grenade Launcher, some of you who are issued these rifles and will learn how to use them with those who will work mortars."  
Lunes takes a deep breath.  
"Now," he continues, "Behind me, there are ten stations each with two M1. Carbines. Two men at each station, you will go through two magazines before handing the rifle to the man behind you! If I see anyone point there rifle at anyone else or do something fucken stupid with it, you will be out of this camp and the Marine Corps! Now go!"  
Everyone takes off for the range.  
I and Fritz manage to be first at the sixth station.  
"On my mark!" Lunes said. "You will load! On my second mark you will aim, on my third you may commence firing!"  
We all stand at our stations in attention.  
"Load!" Lunes orders.  
Everyone starts to load their rifles. Fritz gets done before me.  
"Aim!"  
We all bring our rifles up to our shoulder and look down the rifle right at the target in front of us.  
"Commence firing!"  
"BANG!" everyone fires their M1's in unison.  
"BANG!...BANG! BANG!...BANG!...BANG!" shots are heard all over.  
I look down my sights again at the target.  
"BANG!...BANG!...BANG! BANG!" my M1 blares, "BANG! BANG!...BANG! PING!" the M1 releases the empty magazine.  
I grab a new magazine in an ammunition box on the station table. I insert the new magazine into the M1 and resume firing.  
"Oh ho!" Fritz said next to me, "This is probably going to be the best part of boot camp!"  
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" Frits fires his rifle down range.  
I look down my sights again at the target.  
"BANG!...BANG! BANG!...BANG!" I resume firing, "BANG! BANG! BANG!...BANG! PING!" My last magazine is out and it pops out of the rifle.  
I turn around and hand the M1 to the man behind me and step aside. A moment later Fritz gets done and walks over to me.  
"Oh holy fuck," Fritz says to me, "That was fun, now for the Thompson."  
The area around us erupts with the sound of M1's firing and empty magazine clips being automatically releasing from the rifles.  
"BANG! PING!" the last shot is heard.  
Lunes steps in front of us.  
"Alright!" he says, "Good work boys! You will not be testing out a 30. Caliber considering its the same thing as the Carbine only different amount of ammunition and different slot to load, you will try your hands out at loading one at a later date. Now you will all be trying your hand at using a Thompson!"  
"Hoorah!" everyone starts to hoot and hollar.  
"Silence!" Lunes orders.  
Lunes turns to face five marines standing next to a rack of Thompson machine guns. Lunes tips his head to the stations signaling them to put the Thompsons on the stations.  
Each marine grabs two Thompsons and run them to the first five stations, then they run back and grab two more and run them to the last five.  
"You should all know what to do!" Lunes said, "On my mark again."  
Everyone runs to the stations and once again Fritz and I manage to get a station first.  
We grab a Thompson from on the table.  
"Load!" Lunes yells.  
Everyone grabs a long ammo magazine from an ammo box labeled "Thompson". Everyone snaps the ammo in place.  
"Aim!" I look down the barrel at the triangle shaped sight, right at the target.  
"Oh yes," Lunes said suddenly, "You better keep a tight grip on your weapon! They have one hell of a kick!"  
I grip the Thompson handles tightly to the point my knuckles go white.  
"Fire!"  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" the Thompsons sound off and I have to keep my grip as best I can because the immense power, the machine gun actually lifts up!  
I pull the Thompson down so that I am not firing in the air. When I get the Thompson down the dirt in front of me jumps above ground. "TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" the gun goes until I let off the trigger.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Fritz rapidly shoots his Thompson at the target, "Ha ha ha ha!" Fritz laughs a psychotic laugh.  
"Get firing soldier!" Lunes comes out of nowhere yelling in my ear, "Because if you don't fire, some fucken Jap just killed you and your buddy!"  
I raise my Thompson and look down the sights.  
"Thats it!" Lunes yells, "Now fire the fucken M.G.!"  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" I hit the target dummy with immense force.  
"Listen up soldier!" Lunes yells, "As you fire your weapon, you yell "You fucken Jap's"! Do it!"  
"You fucken Jap's," I said.  
"Louder!"  
"You fucken Japs!"  
"God damn it soldier! Yell it!"  
"You fucken Japs!"  
"Again!"  
"You fucken Japs!"  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" I keep the trigger pulled back, "TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-  
TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" suddenly the M.G. stops, I'm out of ammo.  
"Very good soldier," Lunes said, "Remember, they are the enemy, never let off that trigger."  
Lunes walks away.

***  
May 16th, 1944 Today was the first day of boot camp, I met a few friends, had to do a lot of physical training. At the end of the day we got our hands on some rifles and M.G.'s. Captain Lunes had us run three miles after target practice, he said we all looked like we were having too much fun and were told that we are not here for fun.  
I meet a guy named Joey Fritz from Brooklyn, they guy's going to be a cold hearted killer. He would laugh as we practiced our shooting skills. If he wasn't American, I swear he could be a Jap. Today when we were running through the obstacle course we had to wear our combat cloths. A buddy named Jim Shaw who is being taught how to be a field medic wore his and I noticed that he doesn't have a Red Cross mark on his helmet or have an armband on his arm as well. I asked him why, and he said that Jap snipers use the cross for target practice.

The next few week's will be Hell,  
Peter Miller

Chapter: 3 George

I joined the Navy a few months before the war with Japan started. I was on the ship when the Jap's bombed Pearl Harbor, we were at Johnston Atoll when it happened. I have been fighting in multiple different waters surrounding Jap occupied islands since then. I have been fighting at New Guinea, there I even witnessed the aircraft carrier Lexington. I have been to to the Battle of the Aleutian Islands. We attacked Tarawa, Markin, and the Marshall Islands.  
Now we are heading to Palau to attack Japanese oil ships, planes, carriers, and battleships. Right now it is pretty quiet. My name is George Polk and I live, eat, and sleep on the U.S.S. Indianapolis.

I lean over the rail of the ships bow, smoking a cigarette while I watch the sun rise over the Pacific. Not like the ones I have seen on the wings of Jap Zeros, but something a lot more beautiful, something that does not want to kill me.  
"Morning George," my buddy Max Wells walks over to me.  
"Morning," I said.  
Max leans over the rail and lights a smoke.  
I look at Max and notice that he is not in his working clothes but his dress uniform.  
"Max," I said, "What the hell are you doing?"  
"What?" he asked.  
"You're wearing your dress uniform. You know if Jackson catches you he'd have your ass, he'd report you to McVay just like that." I snap my fingers.  
"Relax, it's just a little cold this morning, it's a wool uniform for God sakes."  
"Wells!" someone yells behind us, then I notice the voice is Jackson.  
"Damn it," Max whispered.  
"You are in for some deep shit now," I whisper back.  
We turn around to see Jackson looking at us both. Jackson walks over to us and looks at Max right in the eye's.  
"Sir!" Max and I solute.  
"Wells," Jackson said, "You are out of uniform, no dress blues unless ordered."  
"Yes sir," Max said, "Sorry sir, I'll change immediately."  
"Get to it."  
Max runs off to change.  
Jackson walks off .  
Jacksons full name is Robert Jackson he is our M.C.P.O. which is suppose to be short for Master Chief Petty Officer. Jackson is a good guy, but he doesn't tolerate idiots and idiotic acts. What Max was suppose to be dressed in is his working clothes. Which is a baby blue button down and collared t-shirt with your rank in black on the left arm, dark blue long denim pants, black leather shoes, and a white sailor's cap.  
Max was dressed in his dress uniform which is a fully wool uniform with a long sleeve shirt with a collar flap which sits on your back with white lines going down and across the sides, there are also two white stars on two corners of the flap. On the left sleeve you have your rank which for him as well as mine is a Petty Officer First Class. For pants you got long black pair with a buttoned flap in the front so you can piss. You also got black shoes and a white sailors cap. Usually you also wear a black sash around your collar flap.  
I walk away from the rails and head for the mess hall to grab some breakfast. The entire ship is like one big maze. There are hallways that lead to others, rooms that lead to another, hallways that lead to rooms, rooms that lead to hallways. One minute you could be in the sleeping quarters the next you are in the boiler room.  
When you are assigned a ship you are told to memorize every room on the ship, I still don't know half the rooms on this ship. I just know where to find the essentials like the sleeping quarters, mess hall, wheel house, officers quarters, captains quarters, shower room, bathrooms, and the decks of the ship. It seems to take a while for me to find the storage room and the boiler room.  
In the navy we are given rifles, mainly just Springfields one of the last few military issued weapons with a lever action. We all mostly just keep our rifles in our barracks. So if I forget my way there when the Japs board our ship or if there is ever a human torpedo coming our way, I'm in for some deep shit.  
Our ship is armed with 200 mm guns, 55-caliber guns, anti-aircraft guns ment for Jap Zeros. It's something to see when looking down the A.A. guns at a Jap kamikaze coming right at you. We use triple mounting guns for that kind of warfare. The whole boat is basically a big powerful gun.  
I take a step through a doorway and into a hall. Sailors are walking up and down going door-to-door.  
"Morning," one says to me walking by.  
"Morning," I said back.  
When I get down the hall I walk through another doorway on the right and walk down a flight of stairs. At the bottom there is another hallway goes left or right. I take a left and walk into the mess hall. To the right there would be more stairs, hallways, and rooms.  
"Morning George," one of the cooks named Chauncey says to me.  
"Morning," I replied.  
"What a cup of coffee?"  
"Sure."  
"I can whip up some hotcakes too."  
"Sounds great. Thanks."  
A minute later Chauncey comes out with a cup and a pot of coffee. He sets the cup down and pours some coffee into the cup. I grab some sugar on the table and pour some into the cup. Chauncey hands me a spoon.  
"Thanks," I said.  
"No problem," Chauncey said, "I'll get those hotcakes going."  
"Thanks."  
Chauncey walks back to the kitchen.  
Just then Max walks in in his work clothes and sits next to me.  
"Fucken Jackson," Max said, "I was just gonna wear my dress blues till the chill went away."  
"Well you kind of screwed yourself," I said sipping some coffee.  
Max rolls his eyes.  
"Hey Wells!" Chauncey yells from the kitchen.  
"Yeah!?" Max yells back.  
"Want some coffee!?"  
"As long as its not brewed by you! For when you do it, it tastes like shit!"  
"Deal with it!"  
Max and I laugh.  
A moment later Chauncy comes back out with some coffee and set it down in front of Max. "Hotcakes?" Chauncey offered.  
"Hell yeah," Max said.  
Chauncy returns to the kitchen with the pot of coffee.  
Max takes a sip of his coffee.  
"How can you drink that shit?" I ask.  
"What?" Max said putting his cup down, "What do you mean drink it pure black."  
"Uh yeah, coffee tastes like pure shit without without sugar."  
"Yeah your just jealous."  
"Of what?"  
"That I'm man enough to drink pure black, not as baby like you who can't drink yours without sugar."  
"Fuck you. Give me that!"  
I grab Maxes cup and take a sip.  
I cough a little as it's bitter tastes hits my tongue.  
"Ha ha!" Max laughs.  
"Alright….," I cough, "But it proves nothing, if I was a baby I wouldn't be in the navy."  
"Huh, actually has a good ring to it, Navy Baby….I love it! Your new name is Navy Baby."  
"Well that makes two of us."  
"Hell you talkin' about?"  
"Come on Well's, you and I are in the Navy! Not the Marines over on those shit hole islands. We get a bed, they get mud. We get a hot meal, they get rice shit."  
"Alright so we are not as good as the Marines, but we still of use. Transportation, our guns, and yes a little air support….So I guess we're not quite Navy Babies."  
Just then Chauncey comes out with a tray of hotcakes. He sets the plates down in front of us with a fork and a little syrup. Then sits down next to me.  
"Any idea where we are going?" Chauncey asks.  
"Not really," I said, "I believe we are going to head over to Palau mostly just to occupy the waters. A lot of talk saying that there are some Jap tankers, battleships, and carriers."  
Max swallows some cake. "Yep," he said, "And I have heard rumors that sometime soon we will be heading for the islands of Mariana, perhaps Saipan as well. The islands are not that far apart."  
"Shit," Chauncey said, "Fucken Japs."  
Just then we hear a loud sound echo through the ship. It sounds like a plane.  
"There ain't no carriers around here," Max said.  
"Fuck!" I yell, "Japs!"  
Max and I run out of the mess hall and to the upper deck.  
When we step onto the deck we see a Jap Zero fly close to our port side.  
Just then the ships alarms start to blare. The crew come running out from every direction to arm the guns. Not the big boys just the anti aircraft guns.  
I run to a 12.7 mm anti-aircraft gun and Max quickly grabs a box of ammo. I grab the gun and start to help Max load the ammo. Once the ammo is in, I pull back the lever to get it ready to fire.  
Suddenly the Jap Zero comes out of no where from above towards the stern and starts to fire at us.  
I turn the gun to the left and wait for the Zero to be in my sight.  
"TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA!" I open fire at the Zero as it passes by. Bullets bounce off its underside as it passes by.  
"There is two of them!" Max yells.  
I look up and see another Jap plane fly at lightning speed right over our ship. As soon as I see the plane on instinct I jerk the M.G. up and open fire. "TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA-TIGA!" the M.G. blares.  
Just then the plane that just flew over starts to smoke from the impact of everyones immense firepower.  
"BOOM!" the Jap Zero blows up into a ball of fire and plummets into the Pacific with a trail of black smoke.  
The Zero hits the water with a giant splash, I can hear the guns on the other side of the ship firing away.  
"Incoming!" someone yells.  
The other Jap Zero flys low right over our bow in a trail of smoke. The Zero flies lower until it crashes into the Pacific about 30 yards from the ships bow. "That was probably an attempted kamikaze," Max said, "Thank God the fucker missed!" "Is anyone hurt!" Jackson yells.  
"No sir!" people start yelling.  
"Check the other deck!" Everyone starts to run to the other side of the ship and checks every gunning position, every position must be checked in case of any wounded. Once I found a man whose head was head was half blown off by bullet from a Zero, his chest was also horribly mangled as well.  
I run around to the other side of the ship and ascend up a staircase to one of the gunning positions above, and what I see sends chills down my spine.  
I see men all lying pools of their own blood. There are four men, all who armed the 40 mm anti-aircraft gun. One of the men is lying on his back with his guts hanging out, dead. Another is shot multiple times through the chest and is lying on his side, dead. One is sitting on the stole of the gun, leaning over the controls with a bullet wound in his neck. But then there is one man who is sitting up against the gun with a bullet wound in his chest, he's just a kid, but he is still breathing. The teenager is quietly gasping for air while coughing up blood, puts out his hand to me, which is covered with blood.  
I walk over to him and kneel down next to him. With his bloody hand he grabs the back of my neck. I put my arm around him and bring him closer to me.  
"You're going to be alright," I say calmly into his ear, "Come on, lets get you patched up."  
I grab his legs and lift him up slowly. Once up, I walk over to the stairs and carefully descend down. Once onto the main deck, I take the kid down to the infirmary wing of the ship. When I enter the infirmary I see multiple men on cots covered with blood, some with minor wounds, some with major wounds.  
"Set him over there," a medic said to me pointing to an empty cot.  
I take the kid over to the cot and set him down slowly. When he is laying on the white cot, he grabs my arm and tries to get me to stay with him.  
"Sailor," a medic comes over to me.  
I look at him.  
"Here," the medic says handing me a thing of morphine and bloody rags, "See if you can stop the blood flow."  
I take the morphine and rags and look back at the kid. With the rags, I wipe the blood away from the wound, but blood then quickly covers the body once more. So I take the rags and apply pressure. With my teeth, I rip open the pack of morphine, then sprinkle some onto the wound.  
I wipe the morphine around the wound, but the blood still flows through the wound. I take the rag off the wound and pour morphine into the wound.  
"This is going to hurt buddy," I said.  
I stick my fingers into the wound and start to rub the morphine around inside the wound. The bleeding stops a little, but not much.  
Just then a medic comes over and looks at the kid on the other side of the cot.  
"Thats good sailor," he says, "I'll take it from here."  
"Will he be alright?" I ask.  
"Hard to say, he took a big hit. He's got a fifty-fifty percent chance. I'll see what I can do."  
"George!" Max comes running into the infirmary.  
I turn to face him.  
"Come on!" he continues, "Jackson wants to take a head count on the upper deck."  
I look at the kid and how he is still grasping my arm while looking at me with frightened eyes as the doctor inspects the wound. I have no choice but to take his hand off my arm and leave him to the medic.  
"You're going to be okay," I whisper to the kid.  
Then I turn around and run with Max to the upper deck. When we get onto the bow, everyone is formed into lines while Jackson walks around counting men. Max I jump in right when Jackson passes us.  
"Alright dismissed, but be alert for any further attacks!" Jackson yells.  
Everyone departs back to their duties.  
"How many did we lose?" I ask Max.  
"I counted one," Max said, "One counted three, another one. So thats five. Did you find anyone?"  
"Three," I said, "But could be four soon."  
I walk away from Max and back towards the infirmary. As I walk to the door, two men with a bucket of water, soap, and sponges are walk by to go clean up the blood of dead men. Others are going around to take care of the bodies.  
I step into the walkway to the infirmary, down a flight of stairs until I get to the hospital wing. I look inside the dimly light and gory medical wing, and I watch as a medic puts a wool green blanket on the kid, then over his face. Four dead.  
I walk away from the infirmary, and head to the barracks to lay down for a bit.

Chapter: 4 Nathen

I never thought it would be like this. Compared to the shit that goes on here, I would rather be fighting the Japs, not to sit here and be their punching bag. I have been place to place for the past two years, three months, and five days. At first I was fighting the Japs on islands I never heard of, but now, I go camp to camp on an island I'm not even allowed to know what its name is.  
I was trained how to fight and defend myself against Japs. But they never showed me how to fight, when I cannot fight. So I am to stand before them and be wiped, hit, and starved. They can hit me, but I can't hit them.  
Yes, I have spent the past two years, three months, and five days in a Jap prisoner of war camp.

***  
"Stand at attention! All of you!" the Jap captain yells while walking down the rows of prisoners.  
The Jap's name is Captain Yokima, whos also captain of the camps guards. Yokima is not a strong man, he is rather tall and thin. But it is his cruel mind that makes him so much of a savage. His guards or as we call them, "his goons", are all monsters. They take out their anger towards America by beating the shit out of us. Yokima does his revenge with his thick wooden club. Yokima does not wear a combat uniform, instead he wears his dress. A tan uniform, button down jacket that has a black neck collar, rank on his shoulders, two pockets, on on the right breast the other on the left. A tan pair of pants that fold into brown leather boots, white gloves, and a cap with a yellow star in the center. He keeps his weapons on his belt that wraps around his waist over his jacket. On the belts right side is a Nambu pistol and a Katana on the left. The guards of the camp must wear a combat uniform unlike the officers.  
The layout of the camp is this large dirty shit hole with jungle wood buildings with roofs made of palm tree branches. The Japs seem to be able to sleep in these conditions, well they get a bed, while we get hard bamboo floors without pillows or even a blanket. When it comes to sleeping here, the barracks are better than my previous camp. Here they put you in barracks with other prisoners. At my old camp, I was put in a two man cell where the Japs actually forced us to sleep with our heads next to the bucket full our own shit and piss. To think that was bad, the bucket tended to be full maggots and flies. The flies would carry disease, so when you get bit even once, you would get sick as a dog. But at every camp, the barracks and any other building are all raised off the ground in case of flooding.  
The camp's perimeter is made up of a barbwire fence, the wire is supported by long crooked posts in the ground. Here youre not allowed to go within five feet of the fence. If is just touch the fence with your finger you're gonna either get shot or sent to the "Auma no sōkutsu" Which is Japanese for, "Devils Den". The Devils Den is a small den inside of a small mountain near the camp. The camp and the mountain is next to a beach so when you are in the cave you can hear the waves hit the rocks and the cliffside. The den is dark with a steel door, and inside it is of complete solitude. Men have ended up in there for weeks, when they come out, they have gone completely mad.  
"Eyes forward!" Yokima yells, "One word from any of you fucks! There will be severe punishments!"  
Just then two Jap guards named Nagumo and Husinska march out, dragging Charles Goodsell an Army Air Corps man who was shot down over Peleliu two months ago. He is just returning from the Devils Den. He has red marks all over his back, they must have whipped him as well. Yokima watches as the two guards shove Charles into the dirt.  
"Pay attention!" Yokima yells, "This man was found trying to steel rice from the mess hall. It is an act punishable by death! But seeing how he is still new here! He was given five weeks in auma no sōkutsu! He was also lashed forty time on back side!"  
Yokima can speak perfect English, but under stress and over excitement he tends to lose proper grammar. Sometimes I just ignore Yokima and look outside the fence at the thick jungle of palm trees, tall grass, rocks, bushes, and tall trees. I can easily hide in there, it just getting out is the problem.  
Yokima walks over to Charles.  
Charles looks up at Yokima through his long, wet with sweat, black hair.  
"Get….up," Yokima orders.  
Charles tries to, but he is so weak, he can barely lift himself up. "I said get up!" Yokima demands.  
Yokima kicks Charles in the chest. Charles roles to his side gasping for breath. "Up!" Yokima yells and kicks in the head this time.  
Charles scrapes his head while blood gushes out of a cut. Yokima looks to Nagumo and Husinska and motion for them come over.  
The guards come over and get Charles on his feet. As soon as he is up Yokima gets up close to him.  
"Look at me!" Yokima demands.  
Charles picks his head up and looks at the Jap bastard.  
Out of nowhere Yokima wacks Charles across the head with his wooden club. Charles stutters in pain. "Why are you getting this treatment filth?!" Yokima says.  
Charles turns his attention back to the Jap.  
"Because I am enemy," Charles whispers.  
"What's that filth?!"  
"Because I am enemy!" Charles says louder.  
"You shall remain in your barracks until further notice!"  
Yokima turns his attention to the guards.  
"Heisha ni kare o toru!" Yokima says something in Japanese.  
The guards take Charles to the barracks.  
"Mattaku asa no 3-kakan shokuji nashi!" Yokima continues and turns his attention back to us, "That man shall not be given any morning meals for three days for further punishment! If anybody is found giving that man any of their food shall be entitled to same punishment! Dismissed!"  
Everyone scatters and Yokima turns and returns to his quarters.  
"Fucken Jap," my buddy James says to me, "How does scum like that walk the Earth?"  
James full name is James Crighton, he was fighting for the Marines before captured at by the Japanese Navy two years ago after the naval ship he was transported on was sunk by the Japs. He was captured and sent here.  
"One day," I said, "Our boys will come, and we will be fee."  
"Yeah," James said, "And on that day I will take Yokima's club and smack him over the head with it."  
"Hey, just so you know, I'm taking his katana."  
"Alright, but I'm getting his pistol."  
"Deal….Did anyone check on Charles?"  
"No, not yet."  
I nod.  
"Lets head over and pay him a visit," I said.  
James and I turn around and sneak over to the barracks Charles is in. We must be careful, for if the guards see us, they may report to Yokima then we would be in for a whole lot of shit. We get to Charles barracks and walk inside to find him inside sitting in the corner of the room staring off into space. We walk over to him slowly.  
"You alright Charles?" James asks.  
Charles is like all the other prisoners here at camp, covered with dirt and mud, not much clothing, no shirt, no shoes, no socks, for pants, everyone will either turn them into shorts, or just let gradually go to rags. A lot of us don't get our hair cut so its long and covered with grease, for we don't get to shower. And our teeth as yellow as piss.  
"Everything hurts James," Charles says, "That Jap fucker hit me hard….The Devils Den was torture enough….When the Jap guards took me out….the put me on a rock, and started whipping me several times….Next thing I know, I am back in the camp and Yokima starts to hit me."  
"Does your head hurt?" I ask.  
"Only a little. My back hurts the most."  
"Give it a while buddy. The pain will go away."  
Charles nods.  
"Get better Charles," James says.  
James and I walk outside the barracks.  
Just then the sound of planes erupts through the air. James and I look up to see at least six Jap Zeros fly right over us.  
"Wonder where they're heading," James says.  
"TWEET!TWEET!TWEET!" Yokima comes out of his quarters blowing a whistle telling us to form up outside.  
James and I walk over to the crowd of prisoners in front of Yokima. Just then our camp commandant comes out of the office and stands next to Yokima. Our camp commandant is an old man with the rank of general and his name is Sodojo. Sodojos uniform is like Yokimas but a lot more fancier and with a higher rank of course, Sodojo, like Yokima, carries a katana. Only Sodojo doesn't carry a pistol.  
"Form in!" Yokima orders. We all give our attention to Yokima and Sodojo. "Dansei no kyō wa, anata ga shigoto o atae rarenakereba naranai!" Sodojo says.  
"Men today you shall be given a job!" Yokima translates.  
"Anata ga zensen ni okura reru yō ni dokku ni kōjinakereba naranaito fune ni busshi o rōdo shimasu."  
"You shall be taken to the docks and will load supplies onto ships to be sent to the front lines!"  
"Jūbun'na shigoto o okonatte inai daremoga, satsuei suru koto ga arimasu!"  
"Anyone who does perform an adequate job, may be shot!"  
A truck suddenly stops behind Sodojo and Yokima. Sodojo looks at the truck, then back to us.  
"Torakku no ue ni dare mo!" Sodojo said.  
"everyone onto the truck!" Yokima translates.  
"What about Charles Goodsell, sir?" I ask Yokima knowing I could be hit.  
"Who?" Yokima said.  
"The man who was subject to punishment this morning, sir."  
"You are all subjects to punishment! The thilth shall participate as well!"  
Yokima looks at two guards named Ming and Chouchi who are standing in front of the truck. Some more trucks come behind the truck and come to a stop.  
"Asoko heisha de buta! Imakare o o wasurenaku!" Yokima orders.  
The two guards run off to the barracks Charles is in and drag him out.  
"Everyone onto the truck!" Yokima demands and walks with Sodojo to a staff car.  
Ming and Chouchi through Charles onto the ground, so Charles tries to get up onto the truck.  
I and James bend down and help Goodsell into the truck.  
"Torakku ni Getto!" Ming looks at me and points to the truck.  
"Fuck you Ming," I said to Ming. If Yokima was around, he would hit me upside the head with his club for saying that to a guard. But seeing how he is not around and Ming does not speak English, why not?  
We get Charles onto the truck and we climb up and sit on the floor.  
Ming and Chouchi walk over to the cab of the truck and drive off following Yokima and Sodojo. "Where we goin?" Charles asks.  
"Sodojo is sending us to the docks," I said, "Work detail."  
"Nathan, how is it you all the guards names?"  
"Well, when you go camp-to-camp for over two years, you tend to memorise the guards names."  
Charles sits up and looks at me.  
"I got to get out of here Nathan," he says.  
"We all do," I said, "But at the moment, you may need to get out more than any of us. We got to get you out of here, get you to the allies, somewhere that is occupied by us."  
"But first we must figure out where we are," James said, "It will all depend if we are in the Philippines or if we are somewhere close to Japan."  
"When we get to the docks….See if we can find any information on where we are. It could help us. In the past the Japs have brought new prisoners in from the docks. If there is any there, see if you can find a man who can speak Japanese and if they know anything about where we are."

***  
We arrive at the docks about fifteen minutes after leaving the camp. Now to see if we can find anyone who can help. Sadly there are no signs at the docks that are in English, someone who can read or speak Japanese could go a long way.  
"Torakku ofu min'na!" Ming yells motioning for us to get off the truck.  
"All of you off the truck!" Yokima orders. Everyone scrambles out of the truck, James and I help Charles get out.  
"No," Charles said, "I'm fine, don't help me get out."  
We let go of Charles and watch as he crawls out.  
James and I look around for anything that could tell us where we are.  
I look to my left and see a big wooden sign with Japanese writing on the rotted wood. It reads:

font face="Nimbus Mono L, monospace"span lang="zh-CN"マダンポート/span/font I nudge James for him to see the see the sign. "Do think thats what we are looking for?" James asks quietly.  
"Yes," I said, "It very well could be, now to find someone who can speak Jap."  
"That will be hard, not many Americans can speak Japanese, it will be a fucken miricle if we find one."  
"That all depends if there are prisoners today."  
"And if there are not?"  
"Well have to Sodojo about volunteer work at the docks."  
"But Sodojo may become suspicious, would could be shot."  
"Its a risk we will have to take."  
I look to make sure none of the guards are watching.  
"If we can," I whisper, "If we can get Goodsell out, we can help get other prisoners out of the camp."  
"Everyone attention!" Yokima yells.  
Everyone stands in attention.  
Yokima turns his attention to four of our prison guards.  
"Subete no gādo wa, 10 no gurūpu o motte imasu!" Yokima demands.  
Each guard walks over to us and starts pulling people into groups. There pulling people into groups of ten. James, Charles, and I put into separate groups. "Follow the group guard!" Yokima yells.  
Yokima starts to walk around to groups and give the group jobs. He comes up to our group and looks at all of us.  
"You will all put ammunition into the cargo ships," Yokima says, "If anyone takes ammunition or a weapon of any kind, shall be shot!"  
"Korera no shūjin ga kamotsusen ni dan'yaku o rōdo shite imasu," Yokima says to the guard.  
The guard nods then motions for us to follow.  
We all start to walk down the docks to an area with crates of ammunition everywhere. I don't know how we are to move these crates considering most weigh over two hundred pounds and we barely have any muscle on our bodies.  
"On ship! On ship!" the guard who can barely speak English points at the ship we must load the ammo on.  
Our groups guard walks back to the edge of the docks and keeps a close eye on us. With the help of a prisoner named Edward we lift up a crate and carefully walk up the ramp to board the ship. Once aboard we carefully set the ammunition down where we are told by a guard on board.  
"Fucken Jap," I whisper to my partner.  
Once we set down the crate of ammo, we walk outside to see fellow prisoners picking up crates and walking towards the ramp. "Take a look at that," the man next to me says, "We got new company."  
I look down at the end the dock and see U.S. Marines, Army Air Corp, and Navy men all walking down the docks, escorted by Japs. "Lets go see them," I said.  
The man and I walk down to the end of the dock and act like we are trying to pick up the crate of ammo.  
"Welcome boys," I say to the passing men.  
"Is it hell here?" some ask as they pass.  
"Quite a bit, but you get use to it."  
I look to the guard to see if he is watching, he is not.  
"Anybody got a map?" I say quietly, "Anybody got a compass, speak Japanese?"  
The men start to shake their heads.  
"Anyone," I said, "Speak Jap, got a map? Compass?"  
More shake their heads.  
"Who's askin?" a man said walking up in Army Air Corp.  
"We need help," I said, "We are trying to get prisoners out of the camp, we need a compass, map, and maybe someone who can speak Jap. Do you have anything?"  
"Yes," the man said, "I got a compass, why should I give it to you?"  
"We need to get a man out."  
"I'll just use it for myself."  
"Please," I plead, "The man needs to get out, he has taken a lot of shit, he in the Air Corp like you!"  
The man thinks for a second.  
"Alright," he says, "I'll give you the compass, but if I get to the same camp you are in, I want out."  
"You got a deal," I said, "What's your name?"  
"Joshua Kets," Josh says.  
"Moriagaru!" the guard of the new prisoners yells at us.  
"Quick!" I say quietly, "Drop the compass!" Josh reaches into his flight jacket and pulls out a compass then drops it onto the ground.  
"God bless you," I said carefully reaching for the compass.  
I grab the compass and put it into my pants pocket.  
"Idō Getto! Imasugu!" the guard shoves Josh forward and forces him to start moving.  
I'm just hoping that James or Charles found anyone who knows anything.

Chapter: 5 (1 month latter)  
Johnny I spent a about a month at bootcamp, it is now June 6th at 3:30 in the morning. Since my papers said that I can speak German fluently, the Army did not have me go through schooling. The Army did show me how to survive Europe though. Right now we are on the docks of New Forest awaiting orders to get onboard.  
I have been issued a helmet, a rifle, bayonet, rations, medical supplies, ammo, grenades, pistol, pack, and the cloths on my back.  
Now I am in England, awaiting to ship out for a special mission codenamed "Overlord". The task will be to storm France at the beaches of Normandy. From there we plan on taking Belgium, from Belgium we may take the Neverlands, but preferably we would cross into Germany and into Berlin.  
We were told that our Air Corp has flown over Normandy and destroyed bridges as well as the pillboxes and guns over the beaches. But the Air Corp alerted us that one sector of the beach has not been demolished, Omaha sector. The beaches are big, everyone was told that they are at least five miles long.  
"TWEET! TWEET!" the sound of a whistle blows.  
"Every Army personnel onboard!" the announcement blares across the docks, "Operation Overlord is a go!"  
Everyone starts to walk up the gangplanks and onto the battleships. There are hundreds of battleships with landing crafts to take us to the beach.  
I and millions of other soldiers from allie forces like Canada, France, Britain, America, and a whole lot more.

After about three hours we are across the English Channel and are now close to the Normandy. When we got here our C.O. told us what beach we will be landing on. We will be landing on Omaha sector. We will be lead by an officer in our regiment, First Lieutenant Chris Paxton. "Into the landing craft!" Paxton orders.  
I through the my M1 Carbine over my shoulder and begin to climb down the rope later that goes into the landing craft that is bobbing up and down in the water below. Once in the boat I lose my balance for a second and stumble backwards, having a heavy bag on my back does not help. I count how many come down into the boat, there are at least twenty-five. Twenty-six when Paxton comes down.  
I look over the side of the craft and am shocked by what I see. Over next to another ship, there is a large landing craft, but what is strange is that the ship is lowering an M4 Sherman tank onto the craft.  
"Hey Joe," I said tapping Joe's shoulder.  
Joe is a man in our unit, I met him back at the docks.  
"Yeah," Joe said.  
"What are they doing?" I ask pointing to the tank.  
Joe looks over the side.  
"Oh," Joe said, "The Army is trying to use special landing crafts to send the tanks to shore."  
"TWEET! TWEET!" the driver of the craft blows the whistle and we cast off from the battleship. The air around us is loud with the sound of the motor running.  
I look up to see the thick overcast above, it looks as if it will rain.  
People around me are drinking from their canteens, saying prayers, and some are vomiting from seasickness. It doesn't help the nausea considering waves would crash into the boat and we would all get wet.  
"Boom! Boom!" the sound of cannonfire is heard in the distance. "VEEEW!...VEEEW!" the shells roar past us followed with by a splash.  
I dare look over the side of the craft and look at another boat nearby.  
"Boom!...VEEEW! CRACK!" the landing craft nearby explodes with metal debris and body parts flying.  
"Boom!...VEEEW!" the sound of cannonfire grows louder, "Boom!...VEEEW! SPLASH!" A shell hits the water right next to our boat.  
"TWEET!" the driver blows his whistle, "Drop off coming! One minute!"  
"Get ready men!" Paxton, "Once on the beach! Find cover and await orders! We must hit the pillbox and take out the M.G. nests!...I'll see you on the beach!"  
"BOOM! BOOM!" the sound of the artillery fire gets louder.  
I and the rest of us, crouch down.  
"TWEET! TWEET!" the driver blows the whistle and he drops the door.  
"ZING! PSH! BWOM! ZING! ZING!" machine gun fire blasts into the landing craft, sending bullets through helmets and bodies.  
"Get out! Get out God damn it!" Paxton yells.  
Soldiers start running to the doorway of the landing craft, but some end up getting killed. As for me, I grab the wall of the landing craft and pull myself over the side.  
"SPLASH!" I hit the water and am impressed with the cold.  
The landing craft did not make it completely to the shore, so the water level is still fairly deep. The only way I can keep myself from drowning is by pushing my body up with toes so I can get a breath of air before going down again. As I push myself up, I try to get myself onto the beach, which is not easy with the waves crashing into me.  
"ZING! ZING! BOOM! WHOM! ZING! ZING!" the M.G.'s bullets fly past my ears and into the water.  
Finally I am knee high in the water and I am able to get onto the beach and I dive down to the sand. I look up from the ground and see in the distance, the pillboxes with the Germans opening fire right at us. It's hard to hear the sound of the M.G.'s firepower, but I can hear and see its bullets.  
"VEEEW! BOOM!" mortars are dropped onto the beach, sending men flying.  
The whole beach is loud with the sound of artillery fire, bullets, and men screaming for their mommies. I must find cover, I see hundreds of other soldiers all crouched behind large steel posts sticking out of the beach which are meant to keep landing crafts and vehicles off the beach. It may not be the best cover, but it's better than no cover. I get up off the ground and run for the nearest post. There are many other soldiers all crowding behind. "ZING! ZING! PING! PING!" bullets would ricochet of the posts.  
"Augh!" a man right next to me is shot through the chest and falls backwards onto the sand.  
For a moment, all feeling in my body seems to go numb and I realize where I am at, I always knew the fight would be difficult, but I had never thought it would be as bad as this. I look back at the water and see it is no longer blue, but tinted red with blood. There are bodies of men everywhere, patches of sand covered with blood and guts. "Momma!" a soldier nearby yells while grabbing his severed leg, "Momma!"  
A man runs past the metal posts and gets shot. I lung out, grab him by the legs and pull him to over to me.  
I turn him over and see he is gushing blood right where his liver is.  
"Medic!" I yell, "Medic!...Medic!"  
With my hands I grab the wound and apply pressure, his blood slips through my fingers and leaves my hands covered with blood.  
"Medic!" I yell again, "Medic God damn it!"  
Suddenly two medics with white spots and a red cross in the middle on their helmets come running over to me and the wounded soldier.  
"Move aside!" one of the medics yells and pushes me back.  
The medics grab some bloodied clothes and morphine, then they start trying to seal the wound. At this point the soldier starts to spit up blood.  
I look over to another post and see Lieutenant Paxton. A moment later he notices me.  
"Schmitty!" Paxton yells, "Get your ass over here!" I wait for a second, then hop up and run across the beach to Paxton. Bullets pierce the sand at my feet. But I manage to get across.  
I trip as I approach Paxton and fall into bloodied sand. As I fall my helmet falls out of alignment so I have to try to readjust as I crawl to cover. The men that surround Paxton are all from the landing craft, only when we left the battleship, we had about twenty-five men, now it seems we have no more than fifthteen. I don't see Joe.  
"VEEEW! BOOM!" a mortar hits the sand no more than five feet from us, the ground shakes with its immense explosion.  
Paxton looks over the steel posts to see the battlefield before us.  
"There is a seawall about a hundred yards from here!" Paxton yells, "There is more protection over there than there is here! If you stay here you're a dead man! On my word!"  
"ZING! ZING! ZING! PING! ZING! ZING! PING! PING!" the bullets continue to pass and ricochet.  
"Advance!" Paxton orders.  
Everyone jumps up from behind the posts and starts running towards the small seawall. Its hard to advance with your boots heavy because of the water and while trying not to step on the bodies or the occasional land mine.  
"ZING! ZING! WHOM! WHOM!...ZING! ZING! BOOM!" the bullets hit some of our men and they fall to the ground "Go! Go! Go!" Paxton yells.  
I keep running with all my strength, I don't think I have ever ran this fast in my life.  
A man running in front of me is hit, falls, and watches me run by. I wish I could help, but if I stop I will more likely get killed.  
We reach the seawall, get down, and await orders. Other soldiers from other units are all cowering behind the wall as well.  
"Ting-ting-ting!….Ting-ting-ting-ting-ting!" the German M.G.'s blares up in the pillbox to our left, this part of the beach must not be very long, for we fairly close to the pillbox.  
"ZING! ZING! ZING! Pish! Crack!" the bullets hit the sand and the stone wall before us.  
Paxton peeks above the seawall.  
"There is a trench about two yards from us!" Paxton yells, "Germans are holding the position! Shot to kill boys!"  
My grip on my rifle gets tighter with the thought of this will be the first time I will kill a person.  
I carefully look over the wall to see two German soldiers within range. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then jump up with my rifle ready.  
"BANG! BANG!" I fire at the Germans.  
One of them gets hit and falls back into the trench, the other I miss and cowers down into the trench.  
"BANG! BANG!...BANG!" other men in our unit start firing at the Germans.  
"CRACK! CRACK!" the Germans open fire at us on the other side.  
Paxton jumps up with his Thompson.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton opens fire then gets back down.  
"Bayonets on!" Paxton orders.  
"Fuck," people start saying, for we know we that were charging them.  
"On my signal!" Paxton says pulling out a grenade.  
Paxton pulls the pin, flips off the lever, and troughs the grenade into the enemy trench. As soon as it hits the trench, we hear the Germans screaming.  
"BOOM!" the grenade goes off.  
"Attack!" Paxton orders.  
Everyone jumps over the side of the wall and runs to the trench.  
"Keine!" a german soldier yells 'no' as he pulls up his rifle.  
"BANG!" I hit him right in the head.  
We jump into the trench full of dead German soldiers, limbs, and of course blood.  
"Sterben!" a German charges me yelling 'die'.  
When he gets close, I stick the bayonet on my rifle, right into his chest.  
"Come on!" Paxton yells at the other units behind the seawall.  
The soldier jump up and charge the trench, taking out enemy soldiers with them.  
"TING-TING-TING-TING!...TING-TING-TING-TING!" a Nazi M.G. to our right fires at us.  
Paxton grabs me and two other men.  
"Listen up!" Paxton orders, "I want you three to go down the trench and find a way to flank that damn M.G.! Go now!"  
"Yes sir!" I yell.  
We take off crouching down in the trench. Every now and then I look over the trench to see the M.G. is still aimed at our boys, it still is, we have not been discovered.  
Once we get about twenty yards away from the M.G. we get ready to attack.  
"Ready?" one of the men says.  
"Affirmative," I say.  
"Attack!"  
We jump up and aim at the men at the M.G..  
"BANG! BANG!...BANG!...BANG!" we fire at the enemy soldiers.  
The Nazi's who armed the M.G. fall limp.  
"Come on lets go!" I yell.  
I jump out of the trench followed by the others.  
"TING-TING-TING-TING-TING….TING-TING-TING!" the sound of the M.G.'s up in the pillbox get louder, but they haven't spotted us.  
We get up to the machine gun nest and wave at Paxton to tell him the area is secure. A second later, Paxton and the men crawl out of the trench and run to us.  
"Nice work boys!" Paxton says to us, "Now come on! We got to take out that damn pillbox!"  
"Yes sir!" I said.  
Our platoon runs another thirty yards down before we hit the large steep hill with boulders everywhere, and broken stone slabs here and there.  
"Start climbing!" Paxton orders.  
We all get on our hands and knees and start to climb up the steep hill. "Climb close to the pillbox!" Paxton yells, "That way the Krauts won't see us!"  
Everyone starts climbing close to the large pillbox where just above the Germans are firing at our boys on the beach.  
"Eingehende Amerikaner!" I turn my attention to a German soldier yelling 'incoming Americans' just above the hill.  
The soldier is waving his arm in the air.  
"Komm schon! Attack!" the soldier yells 'come on' then 'attack'.  
Three other Krauts come into view, mount a position and aim right at us.  
Paxton jumps up with his Thompson.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton fires.  
The four Krauts are engulfed in a mist of blood.  
"Advance!" Paxton orders, "Pick up the pace!"  
Everyone springs to there feet and try to climb up faster.  
Once at the peak, Paxton crouches down and signals us to do the same. So we do.  
"TING-TING-TING-TING-TING….TING-TING-TING!" the sound of the M.G. inside the bunker becomes immense. "There are trenches with Krauts in them," Paxton said, "Careful, the bunker entrance is right over the peak. Be ready men. Schmitty. You speak Kraut do right?"  
"I'm an interpreter sir, so yes," I said.  
"We may need you."  
Paxton looks back down the hill and sees the other soldiers in the trench. He waves motioning them to come up and be quiet.  
"Alright come on, lets take the bunker," Paxton says to us.  
We slowly creep up and look at the bunker with our rifles ready.  
The entrance to the pillbox is entrenched, with walls of concrete.  
"Donovan," Paxton whispers to a man in our unit, "Get down there and see how many Krauts are in there. Carefull."  
The man named Donovan nods and quietly gets down into the entrenchment, he creeps over to the doorway of the bunker with his M1 Garand at the ready.  
Donovan peaks into the pillbox then turns around and climbs back up to us.  
"At least five sir, one's an officer, I think," Donovan says.  
"Good," Paxton says, "I will throw a grenade in there. Be ready."  
Paxton gets into a position where he has a clear shot of the doorway. He pulls out a grenade, pulls the pin, off with the lever, and throws it into the bunker.  
"Granate!" a yell come from the bunker saying 'grenade'.  
"BOOM!" the grenade goes off.  
Smoke and dust gush out of the bunker door. A second later, a German runs out trying to escape.  
"BANG!" one of our men hits the soldier in the back.  
"Nein! Nicht schießen! Wir ergeben uns !" a German officer says walking out with his hands on his head saying 'No! Don't shoot! We surrender!'.  
Following the officer is two soldiers also with their hands on their heads.  
"Get them back Schmitty," Paxton orders, "And keep an eye on them."  
"Yes sir!" I said then turning my attention to the Krauts, "Zurück ! Alle von euch zurück!" I say 'Back! All of you get back!'.  
The Germans walk backwards until they are up against the wall. I get down into the trench, and approach the officer with my rifle on them.  
"Nicht schießen! Nicht schießen!" the officer pleads 'Don't shoot! Don't shoot!'.  
"Gibt es noch mehr drin!" I order them to tell me if there are more of them in the bunker.  
"Ja ! Ja ! Nur bitte nicht, uns zu töten oder den Mann in there!" the officer says 'Yes! Yes! Just please don't kill us or the man in there!'.  
"Halt den Mund !" I tell the officer to shut up and I turn my attention back to my men, "There is one man in there, the Kraut is pleading to not kill him!"  
"Donovan!" Paxton says, "Get the Kraut out of there, but don't kill him unless necessary."  
"Yes sir," Donovan says heading to the bunker door with his rifle ready.  
"Keine!" a voice that sounds like a kid yells 'no'.  
Donovan comes out grasping the arm of a kid, probably no older than nine or ten. Donovan lets go of the kid and the boy runs over to the officer.  
I get a closer look at the Germans and see that the older men are members of Hitlers SS. I studied Nazi ranks back at boot camp and I can see that the two troops dressed in grey-green combat uniforms are corporals, and the officer has the rank of a major, he to is dressed in a grey-green uniform, with an officer's cap, black boots, medals, patches, and a belt around the waist. These men are SS men meant for combat, if they were dressed in black, from what I know of, they would be Gestapo men, the Gestapo is Germany's military police.  
As for the kid, he is dressed in a brown uniform, swastika armband, black leather belt with a bayonet at his side, a little cap, and black leather boots. The kid is a member of Hitler's HJ, the Hitler Youth. "Are you going to kill us?" the major asks in German.  
"Thats not for me to decide," I say in German.  
"Please, don't kill this boy. He is a good boy! If anyone will die, let it be us. Not the kid."  
I look at the boy, he is a cute boy, with blue eyes and blond hair.  
"Give me the knife," I say to the kid.  
The kid doesn't say anything.  
"Do what he says," the major demands, "That is an order."  
The boy takes the bayonet and the sheath of his belt and holds it out to me. I take it and put it into my satchel.  
"Good boy," I say.  
I look at the major, then at his belt, and see his pistol.  
"The pistol," I say to the major, "Hand it over."  
The major looks at his pistol then at me.  
"Why?" the major says, "So you can kill me with my own weapon?"  
"No," I say, "I can do that with this." I motion to my rifle. "I just have to take your weapons….Plus I want your pistol."  
The major chuckles in his throat, then hands me his pistol.  
"A Lugar," I say, "I've heard a lot of our boys say that they are going to be going back home with one of these."  
"It is a nice pistol," the major says, "You Americans pillage our dead in hopes to find a….collectable."  
"Not a collectable, a souvenir. But you're not dead major, don't worry, the prison camps back at the States will treat you better than the war does."  
"Perhaps you are right, but still, I am now a prisoner."  
"What's better major? Getting captured by us or by the Russkies?"  
"Russia….They don't take prisoners, I fought at the Eastern Front, six months. Absolutely, hell on ice. I was there when we invaded Poland, France, and I have been to Italy."  
"This is your second time in France?"  
The major nodded.  
"Been to Paris?" I ask.  
"Yes," the major said, "It's a nice place, perhaps you will stop there. Is that your commanding officer?" The major points to Paxton.  
Paxton is talking with a second lieutenant of another unit.  
"Yes," I say, "We are more likely going to advance to the trenches….What's your name major?"  
"Major Daniel Linkmeyer," the major says, "SS-Sturmbannfuhrer, officer of The Third Reich….And what is your name, may I ask?"  
"Private Johnny Schmitty, U.S. Army."  
"Schmitty? A very German name, and you speak the language so well, are you German by some chance?"  
"My mother and my father are, they moved to the states and had me, they prefer speaking German than English."  
"Ah, I see."  
"Schmitty!" Paxton yells, "Quit small talking with the Krauts and get over here, we are ready to advance!"  
"Yes sir!" I revert back to English.  
Paxton turns around to face his men.  
"Best of luck to you major," I say going back to German.  
"To you as well private," Linkmeyer says, "I will see you in America, until then, do be careful. Germany may be falling, but we won't go done without a fight."  
I nod.  
A soldier from our unit gets down into the entrenchment and walks over to me.  
"I'll take it from here," the soldier says, "I'll keep an eye on these Kraut basterds."  
"I wouldn't say that," I say in English, "They are actually not bad, the major is a nice guy to talk to. Don't kill them, They are better off at the States."  
The soldier nods.  
I wave goodbye to Linkmeyer, but instead of waving goodbye, Linkmeyer solutes. Not like he would for Hitler, but as he would for Eisenhower. I climb up the trench and regroup with my unit.  
"Keep those bayonets on boys," Paxton says, "We are storming the trenches, if you can, try to take prisoners. I need my men to get in the trench and flank the Krauts. Lets move!"  
We charge the trenches ahead with men from other regiments. Our unit jumps into the trench and runs down the maze with walls of dirt and wooden boards.  
"Keep low and press forward," Paxton says.  
Paxton stops us at a corner in the trench, he then peers around the corner.  
"Germans," he says.  
"Amerikaner auf der rechten Angriffs !" a German yells 'Americans on the right, attack!'.  
"They've spotted us!" I say.  
Paxton jumps around the corner on his knee with his machine gun ready.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton nails a charging German.  
"Attack!" Paxton yells.  
All of us get around the corner and attack the Germans.  
"BANG! BANG!...BANG! BANG! BANG!" I fire.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG….TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton continues to shoot.  
Its as if its a whole platoon of Krauts "Tötet sie alle !" a German commander yells 'kill them all!'.  
"BANG!...BANG!...BANG!" the Germans open fire.  
The Krauts are armed with Gewehr rifles which are lever action rifles, similar to ones used during The Great War.  
"Ahh!" one of our men gets hit.  
Suddenly two German SS men come around the corner carrying Sturmgewehr machine guns.  
"They got M.G.'s!" I yell.  
"Back! Back! Get back!" Paxton yells.  
We shove each other back around the corner.  
"PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH!" the SS men let us have it.  
The wooden boards that that line the walls of the trench, explode with chips of wood flying everywhere as the bullets pierced them.  
"Anyone got a smoke grenade?!" Paxton asks.  
"Yes sir," one of our men says handing Paxton the grenade.  
"Alright, well cover the place with smoke, meanwhile, we'll hit em' from above. Reload if you have to men."  
We all reload our rifles as does Paxton for his Thompson.  
"Here we go," Paxton says pulling the pin from the grenade and flips off the lever.  
Paxton throws the grenade around the corner.  
"BOOM!" the grenade goes off and the trench is soon filled with gray smoke.  
"Lets go," Paxton says.  
We climb over the wall of the trench then carefully creep over above the Germans. The Germans in the trench can be heard coughing due to the thick cloud.  
"Now fire!" Paxton yells.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton fires into the trench.  
"BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!" everyone opens fire.  
The Germans are heard now screaming in pain.  
Soon the smoke clears and the Germans lie dead. But one looks up at us, he is critically wounded.  
"Bitte ... Tötet mich," the man says.  
"Whats he saying?" Paxton ask me.  
"He is begging us to kill him," I say.  
"Leave him."  
"But sir."  
"Leave him!"  
"Bitte ... Bitte ... Töte mich," the German asks again.  
I pull up my rifle and aim at him, and I gradually squeeze the trigger.  
"BANG!" I shoot the man through his helmet, and his head drops.  
Paxton glares at me.  
"Sorry sir," I mumble.  
"Advance!" Paxton says, "In the trench."  
Our platoon jumps into the trench and advances. We run around corners and further into the trench.  
We run around a corner and catch two Germans by surprise. They through their rifles onto the ground and put their hands in the air.  
"Wir ergeben uns!" they yell.  
"They surrender!" I translate.  
"No shit!" Paxton says, "Get them to tell us where their fucken artillery is!"  
"Whre ist Ihre Artillerie ?" I ask.  
"Auf diese Weise ! Auf diese Weise !" one says pointing down the trench.  
"They say its down the trench!" I say.  
"Tell them to take there," Paxton said.  
"Führen uns in der Artillerie," I say to the Germans.  
The Germans nod and motion for us to follow. The Germans take off in a jog and we follow close behind. The further we go down the trench the more we can see the barrels of anti-aircraft guns.  
The Krauts stop us at the end of the trench, just beyond are the guns. Behind the A.A. battery is a huge bunker with a cannon sticking.  
"Keep an eye on them," Paxton says to one of our men.  
The soldier Paxton chose points his rifle at them, in reaction, the Krauts put there hands behind their heads.  
"Schmitty," Paxton says, "Stay here and provide as covering fire. Donovan, spike those A.A. guns."  
"Got it," Donovan says.  
Donovan runs over to guns, just as I get down on my knee and provide covering fire.  
Donovan gets up to the guns and plants dynamite on and around the guns.  
"Get ready!" Donovan yells, "This fuckers gonna blow."  
Donovan takes a grenade, activates it and throws it at the A.A. guns.  
We all take cover.  
"BOOM!" the grenade goes off setting other one to off, "BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!" Due to explosion, a Kruat comes running out of the bunker to see what happened.  
"BANG!" I hit him before he spots us.  
"Watch my back," Paxton orders.  
Paxton runs to the bunker, up the stone steps and up against the wall. He slowly walks to the corner of the bunker and checks the side. Paxton points at me and motions for me to come over.  
I jump up and run over to him.  
"Come on," Paxton whispers.  
The lieutenant and I creep around the corner and stand next to the steel door. Paxton stands on the left side of the door.  
"Open it up," Paxton says.  
I grab the latch, pull it up, and swing open the door.  
Paxton jumps into the doorway.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" Paxton kills the Krauts.  
"Get in there and destroy the battery," Paxton orders.  
I run in and plant explosives in the barrel of cannon.  
"Got it," I say.  
"Lets go!" Paxton says.  
We run away from the bunker right when the explosives blow and the cannon lies a mangled pipe.  
"You Kraut fuckers!" the man guarding the prisoners says.  
"Leave them alone private," Paxton orders.  
Just then reinforcement troops from the rest of our company come walking up to us through the trench and above the trench. "About time you sons of bitches got here!" one of our men say.  
"You missed the fireworks. Hows the progress on the beach?" Paxton said.  
"Taken," a sergeant says, "We have also heard that the other beaches, should be taken soon. Our boys are rounding up the Jerries, theres got to be hundreds of them bastards."  
"Any orders?"  
"Yes," a second lieutenant steps in, "General Spade said that the 101st, 502nd, and 501st Airborne divisions have been dropped and will soon be taking the town of Carentan. Our job is to surround Carentan, let the Airborne take them out, then search the town for any Krauts."  
"When's the attack?"  
"The Airborne is expected to attack on the tenth, our company is moving out soon."  
"Do you got a map lieutenant?"  
"Yes."  
The second lieutenant walks over to us and pulls out a map of Normandy and lays it out on a crate of ammunition.  
"Here is Dog Green sector, Omaha," the second lieutenant said, "And over here is Carentan." The lieutenant points to a small spot labeled 'Carentan'. "That is about seventeen miles from this position. The Airborne has been dropped behind enemy lines and will be taking Carentan from the south. We are to be right behind them and keep low about three hundred yards outside of the town." The lieutenant shows our to be position behind Carentan.  
"When are we shipping out?"  
"Immediately, trucks won't be able to land on the beach for some time now. The only way to get there will be by foot."  
"Is Captain Dyer leading our unit?"  
"Yes, and as you know Lieutenant Colonel O'Malley is leading the battalion." Just then two men walk out of the trench, the ranks which are displayed on their helmets show that they are officers. One with a silver oak leaf for a lieutenant colonel, it's O'Malley. The other with two silver bars next to each other and joined together, a captain, it's Dyer.  
O'Malley is a combat vet from what I heard. I was told that when he was eighteen he became an officer and went into the last two years of World War One. Now O'Malley is a forty year old man with a higher rank.  
As for Dyer, he is a younger man than O'Malley, I was told that he is somewhere around twenty-five years old and has been here since the beginning of the war. People told me that before he was transferred to this unit, he was fighting in North Africa with the Brits against Hitlers tropical forces.  
"Lieutenant," O'Malley said.  
"Sir," Paxton said saluting, "Captain." "Lieutenant," O'Malley says, "I trust you have been advised of our new task."  
"Yes sir."  
"Well I must say that you will be relieved from commanding your patrol and Captain Dyer will take your place."  
"Yes sir."  
"What are orders till then sir?" Dyer says.  
"You will all be moving out, in one hours time. There will be no transportation so the trip will be by foot."  
"We were told sir," Paxton says.  
"Until then, if you will, search for any Germans."  
"We have an interpreter," Paxton says turning to me, "Schmitty get over here."  
I jog over to Paxton.  
"Yes sir," I say.  
"This is our interpreter" Paxton continues, "Johnny Schmitty, he speaks German. I can put him in a group with my men."  
"Good," O'Malley says, "We actually have a man from the Free French forces he can help out with being a French interpreter." O'Malley turns around and looks into the trench with our men in it. "Hey Stine! Go get Boucher!"  
"Yes sir," the soldier named Stine runs off.  
"We got a Frenchmen?" Paxton asks.  
"Yes," Dyer says, "I recruited him into our unit back in England, thought we could use him."  
Just then a man wearing a tan combat uniform with the rank of a corporal, red beret cap, pack on his back, pistol and bayonet at side, rifle, and black leather boots come running up to us. He looks to be about my age.  
"Bonjour monsieur," the man says in a french accent.  
"Bongjour to you to," O'Malley says, "Paxton, Schmitty, this is Corporal Jacques Boucher. Boucher, this is First Lieutenant Paxton." Boucher smiles and shakes Paxtons hand. "And this is….I'm sorry what's your name again?" O'Malley looks at me.  
"Private Johnny Schmitty, I also go by John or Smitt," I say shaking the Frenchmans hand.  
"Right then," O'Malley says, "Private Schmitt is our German interpreter."  
"Nice to meet you," Boucher said, "You can call me Boucher or Jac."  
"I believe you know what to do men," O'Malley says, "I'll leave you to it."  
O'Malley walks away.  
"Alright," Dyer says, "Paxton, have your platoon, search for Krauts, Boucher, you join them."  
"As you wish," Jac says.  
"Alright get on it," Paxton says, "Hey everyone in my platoon! Form up and follow these men to find prisoners!"  
Everyone from our platoon walks over and we walk down the trench leaving paxton and Dyer.  
"So how long have you been fighting?" I ask Jac.  
"A few months," Jac says, "Before I joined the French army, I was working for the French Resistance, fighting the Germans in secret. When the Gestapo began to follow me around in suspicion that I was a part of the Resistance, I was told to flee and join the army."  
"How many men are a part of the Resistance?" "Quite a few, we spent our time destroying supply dumps, railroads, and radio lines. We would secretly listen to the BBC for messages on Allied attacks and how we could help."  
"Isn't that illegal here?" "Yes, we would have to make sure the Gestapo never caughts us or that a radio detection unit didn't discover us."  
"Isn't that a crime punishable by death?"  
"Yes. Highly."  
"Do you think we will see Paris?"  
"Ha! I wish! I haven't seen Paris in months. I lived in a nearby farmhouse, and would conduct secret meetings for the Resistance in Paris."  
"Work in Paris? Right in the lions den? Your joking."  
"No, have you ever heard of a person conducting their illegal business in enemy territory?"  
"I guess not. Thats actually kind of smart now that I think about it."  
We turn around a corner in the trench I see that we are back at the bunker which we knocked out a few hours ago. I see that the soldier from our platoon is still guarding the Germans from the bunker. Major Linkmeyer looks up at me.  
"Hallo Schmitty," Linkmeyer says.  
"Kraut putain ! Tais-toi !" Bucher says something in French, and charges Linkmeyer with his bayonet.  
"Hey! Hey! Jac!" I yell grabbing him, "Stop! He is just saying hello!"  
Bucher relaxes and puts his bayonet away.  
"He should not be talking to you," Jac says.  
"Its alright," I say, "Thats Major Linkmeyer, he is already taken prisoner. Besides he is not that bad a guy, I had a conversation with him a few hours ago."  
Bucher jerks my grip off him and walks over to Linkmeyer. Gets down and looks the major in the eyes.  
"You are lucky the American spared you," Bucher said, "If you talked to me, I would kill you." Jac makes a throat slitting motion, then storms off.  
"Nichts ausmacht ihn," I say 'don't mind him' to Linkmeyer in German, "The French are quite sensitive."  
"Ja, immer sind sie," Linkmeyer said 'Yes, they always are'.  
"Hey," I continue, "Take this." I pull out a piece of paper and write down my street address back home and hand it to him.  
"Was ist das?" Linkmeyer asks me 'what is this'.  
"For when the war is over," I say, "When it blows over look me up, I'll see if I can help you get back to Germany, or start a life in America."  
"Ah, thank you."  
"No problem major, goodbye for now."  
"Goodbye."  
Suddenly Jac walks out of the bunker and looks at me.  
"You may want to see this," Jac said.  
I walk into the bunker, Jac glares at the major and walks in with me.  
"Have a look," he says pointing to the beach.  
I look out the slits of the pillbox and glance down at the beach. Everywhere, across the beach, are bodies of dead soldiers. There are bodies washing up back and forth in the water, blood covers the sand, and the water is still dyed red with blood.  
"Mon Dieu," Bucher says.  
Beyond the water, I see boats and landing craft closing in on the beach.  
Medics are running across the beach trying to find anyone who may still be alive.  
"Lets get out of here," one of our men say.  
We all turn to the door and walk out.  
As we walk out, I think of the bodies on the beach, to think, I could have been one of them. Its something to think about, I survived D-Day, and I realise that I am one of the the luckiest bastard alive.

Chapter: 6 Peter

We finished boot camp training not that long ago, by the time we heard about D-Day was when we landed on the island of Pavuvu where the First Maines set up camp. Now its just to await orders, I was told that our company is planning on taking an island called Peleliu. Pavuvu is one large area of land with the jungle behind it and docks in front. The whole beach of Pavuvu is practically a city of tents. Everywhere you walk you see raised tents and soldiers sitting or standing on the steps, taking a smoke. A lot of Marines don't have a shirt on, some have even rolled up their pants. Everyone in the camp is dirty, dirt on their bare chests, legs, arms, and face.  
Meanwhile look at us, the new recruits, the ones that stand out from the rest. We are not the ones with dirt on our skins, or ripped pants, hell, we are all wearing our clean combat uniform. A whole line of us, walking down the streets of camp. One my right is Joey and on my left is Jim.  
"Welcome to hell boys!" a soldier yells at us.  
"You are all in for some fucked up shit!" another yells.  
"Where the fuck have you been?!" someone else yells.  
"Gotta hate being new guy," Joey says to me with a cigarette hanging in his mouth.  
"Lets just find our tent," I say, "Hopefully our roommates will be a bit nicer."  
We get up to a tent numbered "68".  
"This our tent?" Joey says.  
I look at the paper which I put the number down.  
"68…." I mumble, "Yep this is it."  
"Alright well I'm off," Jim said.  
"Yep," Joey said.  
Joey and I enter the large tent to see four men sitting on bunks or chairs around the room. The men do not have shirts on, pants rolled up, and dog tags draped down their necks. One of the men is smoking, one man is looking at a magazine, which I am sure is not a TIME magazine, another is lying on a bunk with his hands behind his head, and the other is drinking some hooch.  
"What the fuck did the cat drag in this time?" the man on the cot says.  
"Were new to the unit," I say.  
"No shit," the man drinking says.  
"Is this Red One?"  
"Part of it."  
"Whats that mean?" Joey asks.  
"Well wiseass," the man looking at the magazine says, "A lot of em' can be found on other shithole islands, a lot them are lying on Guadalcanal."  
"Where the fuck were you?" the man smoking says.  
"I don't understand," I say.  
"Guadalcanal, where the hell were you?"  
"Well uh."  
"Yeah, like everyone else, don't know what the fuck to say."  
The smoker glares at Joey.  
"Hey, there will be no smoking in my tent."  
"But…." Joey says.  
The smoker glares at Joey more.  
Joey looks at the floor like he is about ready to put out the cigarette. "Not my wood floors," the drinker said.  
Joey rolls his eyes and throws the smoke outside.  
"Well I guess," the smoker says, "I guess you gonna need to know our names, since I see we are now comrades." The smoker looks over to the man on the bunk. "My names Scott Neels, but most call me 'Shooter'." "Over there," the smoker continues, looking towards the one drinking, "Thats Bill Critts."  
The drinker raises his bottle of hooch.  
"The bastard over there," the smoker looks to the one with the magazine, "His names Michael Lane, but we call him 'Mikey'."  
Mikey doesn't nod at us but grunts.  
"And as for that son of a bitch," Shooter says looking at the smoker, "Thats Danny Schmitty, we call him 'Schmit' or just 'Dan'. And you will soon find him to be one of the toughest bastards in this camp."  
"Not as much as you Shooter," Dan says taking a puff.  
"Shut up shithead, you know you're better than me."  
"I know, just trying to be nice." Dan looks at us, "Well, what the hell you still standing there for? Pick a bunk and drop your gear, you're not in combat yet."  
Joey and I walk over to the cots, Joey takes a cot on the left side of the tent and I take one on the right, just in front of Shooters cot. I put my pack, jungle camo helmet, ammo, pistol, medical pack, k-rations, and my Thompson machine gun under the cot. Joey does the same, only instead of putting a Thompson under the cot, he puts an M1 Carbine under.  
"Your a lucky bastard to get a Thompson," Dan says, "Best way to stay alive. By the way, what's your names?"  
I look at Dan.  
"Well," I say, "My name Private Peter Miller."  
"Well, Peter," Shooter says, "Nobody is going to give a shit about your fucken rank, out here, it doesn't fucken matter if you are a private or a God damn lieutenant. All you do is listen to officers and take orders from our C.O. anything lower than that, don't be saying any of that 'yes sir' bullshit. Now you say your name and I better not hear you say your rank."  
Joey looks at me.  
"Alright," Joey says, "My name's Joey Fritz."  
"Thank the fucken Lord," Dan said, "That you didn't give your God damn rank."  
"So where you from?" Mikey asks.  
"Brooklyn," Joey says.  
"Chicago," I say, "Where you from?"  
"You from Chicago?" Dan asks.  
"Yes," I say.  
"Well that makes two of us! I'm from Chicago as well, how the Cubs doing?"  
"Finished 4th in the National League."  
"Huh. Got any siblings?"  
"Yes, I have a sister who is working on the war supply line, helping build tanks. Do you have any siblings?"  
"Yep, a brother, his names Johnny. He's currently serving as a translator and fighting those Nazi bastards."  
I nod.  
"Shooter over there is from Cali," Dan continues, "Mikeys from Saint Louis, and Critts is from some place in Washington."  
Joey and I nod.  
"Well why the hell you not stipped down?" Mikey asks.  
"Excuse me?" I ask.  
"Its like ninety fucken degrees out!" Critts says, "Everyone else has stipped off their shirt and rolled up their pants."  
"I'd rather not," I say rolling up my shirt sleeves.  
"Jesus Christ," Dan says, "Looks like the Marine Corps has sent us some fucken school girls!" "What has this war come to?" Critts says sarcastically.  
"Danny!" a man yells outside the tent as we watch him through the screen panel walk up to the tent.  
He steps into the tent and we see that he is a captain.  
Joey and I stand in attention and salute the captain.  
Our comrades behind us just roll their eyes as they watch us.  
"Captain Baade, sir," Dan says.  
"Get your gear on," Baade says, "Everyone in this tent will take a patrol through the jungle in fifteen minutes."  
"Whose leading the patrol?"  
"That would be me," the good Captain Lunes walks through the door.  
"Captain Lunes," I say.  
Lunes was assigned to join us the new recruits.  
"Whose this?" Shooter asks.  
"Captain Lunes," Lunes says, "And I will not take that tone soldier, you will address me as sir God damn it."  
"Yes sir," Shooter says.  
"Alright," Baade says, "Gear up and get out."  
We grab our stuff and gear up. I grab at my pack.  
"You wont need that," Dan says, "Just the belt, helmet, and rifle."  
I put my helmet on, as well as my belt, and grab my Thompson. Joey does the same. I look to see Dan takes out a Thompson as well, Shooter gets a Garand, Critts a Carbine, and Mikey has a Browning Automatic. The four comrades put on their dirty USMC tan combat shirts, roll up the sleeves, and roll down the pants legs.  
"Alright," Dan says strapping his Thompson over his shoulder, "Let's get out of here." Dan pulls out a fresh cigarette, lights it using the old one, then stomps out the old butt.  
Lunes leads us out of the tent and begins leading us through the camp.

We have been walking through the sithole jungle for at least two hours. Haven't seen a single Jap yet. Joey and I are walking in the front with Lunes with our rifles at the ready and the others are behind. Mikey and Critts walk with their rifles at their sides, ready for anything to pop out. But Schmitt and Shooter are walking with their rifles over their shoulder as if this all just an ordinary day.  
"Snap!" The sound of a twig being snapped is heard.  
Lunes stops in his tracks and holds his hand up, motioning for us to stop. We all stop and hunch down into the tall grass and dense jungle thicket. Lunes hunches down and glances through a bush.  
"Teki no patorōru ni ki o tsukeru, tsuzukeru," someone says nearby.  
Just past the bush Lunes is hunched behind I see the helmets of Japanese soldiers.  
Lunes looks to us.  
"Japs," he whispers, "I want you three to flank them on the left." Lunes points to Dan, Critts, and Shooter. "The rest will attack from here. Now go, we will attack when you are ready."  
Dan, Critts, and Shooter walk way hunched in the tall grass and behind the palm trees, until they disappear from sight.  
Just then Dan shows himself from behind a bush and signals that they are ready.  
"Lets go," Lunes says.  
We jump up from the tall grass and from behind the bush. The Jap's look at us with shock.  
"TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG-TIG!" I and Lunes fire our Thompsons at the Japs.  
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" Joey fires his Carbine.  
"PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH-PISH!" Mikey pulls the trigger on his light M.G..  
Some of the Japs fall dead while the trees behind them send wood flying when the bullets hit them. The grass and bushes behind them dance with the firepower.  
Just then we see our boys on the left stand up with their weapons ready.  
The three open fire on the left and the Japs fall dead in a mist of blood.  
With the Japs dead, I realize what I just did. I realize that I have just killed a man, its not at all like back in boot camp where you have to hit targets. These are human beings. With that thought I lean over the bush, and vomit.  
"Ha ha!" I hear Shooter laugh, "The kids not use to killing Nip's yet!"  
"Peter?" Joey walks over, "You alright?"  
I wipe the vomit off my mouth and spit out the salty taste.  
"Yeah," I mumble, "I'm fine, I've just never killed anyone or anything before."  
"Well get use to it," Lunes said, "Son this is war! There will be death and there will be blood."  
"It's either kill," Dan said, "Or be killed."  
I get up onto my feet and walk with our patrol to the dead Japs.  
As we get up to the Japs, one of them that is still somewhat alive, looks up at us. He reaches to his belt and tries to grab a grenade. But Mikey puts his boot on his arm and stops him from getting the grenade.  
"I don't think so Hirohito," Mikey says.  
Mikey pulls out his pistol and shoots the Jap in the head. The Japs brains splatter everywhere. "Fucken monkeys," Shooter says.  
"Were done here," Lunes said, "Lets get back to camp."  
Our platon turns around and starts walking.  
"Wait," I say, "Were just going to leave them here?"  
Dan looks at me.  
"Well we ain't taking them with us."  
"Besides they have nothing valuable on them," Critts says, "Unless."  
Critts walks over to one of the Japs and opens his mouth. "Oh yeah!" he says, "This Nips loaded!"  
Critts pulls out his bayonet and sticks the blade in the bodies mouth.  
"Come on you Jap bastard," Critts says, "Give it up."  
I hear the most awful sound I have ever heard, so awful, I can't even describe it. "Got some," Critts says.  
Critts takes out of the dead Japs mouth a bunch of shiny little ingots that are covered with blood, and I notice, its gold teeth.  
"Jap gold," Shooter says.  
Critts puts the gold teeth in his pocket.  
"Alright lets go," Lunes says.  
I am shocked about just happened, but I keep my mouth shut and move along.

Chapter: 7 George The Indianapolis went through Palau not that long ago. There was a lot of action there, I have never seen so many Jap ships in my military career. We sunk at least three destroyers, seventeen freighters, another seventeen ships were damaged, and we sunk five oilers. Now our ship has arrived in Saipan in the Mariana Islands.  
We are all in the barracks waiting for our C.O. to tell us the battle plans. "Attention!" our Chief Petty Officer River says, "Command on deck!"  
Jackson walks through the doorway as we all solute.  
"At ease," Jackson says.  
Everyone in the room relaxes and Jackson walks over to the wall with the map of the Pacific Theater. "Alright!" Jackson says, "Here is the Mariana Islands." Jackson says pointing to the islands. "Here is Saipan." Jackson puts his finger on Saipan. "We are just outside of Saipan and on the day of the attack our fleet will bombard the beach while ground forces take the beach." Jackson continues to point out positions. "Before we let the Marines take off, our carriers will send air raids on the eleventh. The Marines will cast off on the fifthteenth, were sending in some Navajo Code Talkers to Saipan to guide our guns on Japanese positions. Be ready for any Zeros or torpedo attacks. I want all A.A. and M.G. guns ready. Until then, get plenty of rest and be on alert for any night air raids. Dismissed." Jackson turns and walks out.  
"Well," Max says, "This is going to be a bit fucken difficult."  
"No shit," I say, "Ah well, wars war. You know whats going on in Europe?"  
"Yeah, I heard that the Army and the Navy has launched a large attack on some beaches in France."  
"How big?"  
"From what I have heard, practically the whole damn Navy and Army was there."  
"You got to be fucken jokeing."  
"Nope."  
"Shit. And that was today?"  
"Yep. I also heard that the attack is expected to bring the damn war closer to the end in Europe."  
"How much closer?"  
"I don't know for sure, but they would expect to cross into Germany in a matter of weeks and Berlin in a matter of months. The Krauts are throwing everything they got at em'."  
"Now if only it was the same thing here."  
"The Japs are already throwing everything they got at us. I mean have you seen the Marines we got on board after picking them up from New Guinea."  
"I've seen them, they are all a complete mess."  
All the marines down in the hull are in fact a mess. Their shirts are covered with dirt and mud, as well as their faces. Every helmet has scrapes and damage. The Marines claim that the shithole islands are so hot, that some have actually cut off their shirt sleeves. They all look tired and it seems their sanity is distant. "Max, George," River says coming over.  
"Yes sir," I say.  
"Why don't you two head below deck to check on the Marines. See if any of them need medical attention or some food and water, just see if they need anything."  
"Sure," Max says.  
Max and I walk out of the barracks, and start walking through the maze of the ship to the hull. As we walk down the hall, we stop to watch a medic walk by with rags covered with blood.  
"Jesus," I say.  
Max and I walk down a staircase, open a door, and we are in the hull.  
Marines are everywhere, all sitting or laying on cots. The room reeks with cigarette smoke with the smell of piss and shit.  
"Lets get to work," Max said.  
Max takes one row and I take another.  
"Anything I can get you," I start asking while walking down the row.  
Some look up at me and shake their heads, and some just don't even notice I'm there.  
"Yeah," smoker mumbles, "Can we get a hot shower?"  
I pause for a moment.  
"Um," I say, "I'm not sure private, you would have to ask your C.O.."  
"Our commanding officer is dead," the smoker said.  
I go quite.  
"I'll see what I can do," I say at last.  
I continue walking down the line.  
"Anything? Anybody need anything," I continue to ask.  
"Yes," another Marine says.  
I cant see the Marines face, for he is sitting on his cot, with his head in between his legs.  
"Take me home," he pleads.  
"I'm sorry private," I mumble, "I can't do that."  
The Marine starts to shake his head.  
"I just want to go home," he says to himself, "I just want to go home."  
I continue walking down.  
"Sailor," a man laying down says in a stiff voice.  
I stand in front of his cot.  
"Yes?" I ask.  
"I could use some morphine," he says, "If you have some."  
"Where are you hit soldier?"  
The marine gradually sits up and revels and open wound on his shoulder. It looks like he got knifed.  
"Shit," I said.  
"Yeah," he says, "God damn Nip came out of nowhere and stuck one in me."  
I have a closer look at the wound.  
"Why didn't you show this to the medics?" I ask.  
"Others had bigger problems," he mumbles.  
"I'll have them send some morphine and treatment."  
The Marine nods.  
I walk on down the line.  
"Hey buddy!" a sailor says to a Marine, "You got any Jap survivors?"  
The Marine shakes his head.  
The sailor rolls his eyes and goes to another cot. "You?" the sailor asks, "Got a katana, flag, pistol, anything? I'll give you good money."  
"Fuck off!" the Marine says blowing smoke at the sailor.  
"Fucken Marines," the sailor said coughing smoke, "Anyone? Anyone got something good?"  
Another Marine flips the sailor off.  
Max looks at me, and I nod.  
I run up to the sailor.  
"Shut the fuck up," I demand, "Do you have any God damn idea what these men went through?"  
"Fuck you!" the sailor says in an angry tone, "Who the hell says we don't get the same shit from the Jap's?"  
"Your a fucken asshole," a Marine says in a cot next to us.  
"Fuck off shit head! Nobody was talking to you."  
"I'll two options asshole," I tell him, "You can leave and don't bother these men anymore, or I can report you to your commanding officer!"  
The sailor glares at me, then stomps off and out the hull.  
Max comes walking over.  
"Just got the last requests," he said, "Mostly just some morphine, penicillin, and a hot shower."  
"Alright," I said, "Lets report it to River, he'll see to it the demands are made."  
We turn to walk out.  
"Hey," a Marine gets my attention, "Thanks for getting the fucker out of here, another minute, I would have been taken by the M.P.'s for knocking a sailors teeth out."  
"No problem," I said, "Shit like him does not deserve to be in the military."  
Max and I walk out to report the demands to River.

Chapter: 8 Nathan For the past month we have been searching every new prisoner that came to this shithole. We were lucky to find a compass, then two weeks later, a few new prisoners came in, and one had a map on him. The map showed Jap and Ally occupied islands throughout the Pacific. The man we got the map from, said that he was going to destroy it, so the Jap's wouldn't get their hands on it. The only question now, is where are we? If we can find someone who can speak Japanese, then he might be able to find where we are.  
Today, we are being sent back to the docks, this time to unload some food for the camp. A lot of the food is not meant for us, but for Yokima and his guards.  
We watch as at least ten new prisoners walk down the docks.  
"Anyone speak Jap?" I whispered, "Anyone? Anyone at all?"  
"I do," a man said, "Well, I do a little."  
"Good enough," I say with excitement, "Then tell us, what does that sign say?"  
I point to the sign that reads:

font face="Nimbus Mono L, monospace"span lang="zh-CN"マダンポート/span/font

"Uh," the soldier reads, "Madanpōto. Madang Port."  
"And wheres that?" I ask.  
One of Yakima's goons yells some Jap at the soldier.  
"You're going to have to figure that out," the soldier says, "Sorry."

***  
We return to camp and return to the barracks. I am fortunate to remember what the soldier said.  
"I know where we are," I said.  
"What?" James says.  
"The port, a soldier said its Madang Port."  
"Where the fuck is that?" Charles asks.  
I walk over to the other end of the barracks. I bend down to the floorboards, and very carefully, I pull out the map of the Pacific front. I unwrap it and look around with James and Charles.  
"That it?" James points to a small dot on the map that reads 'Madang'.  
"I think so," I said, "That means, we are in New Guinea."  
"Look Nathan," Charles says, "We're close to the Allies, if we go south, we would reach Australia."  
"Yes," James said, "But thats a large body of water in between. Why not go east? The Allies are holding the eastern islands, and its only a short hop from here."  
"Stick close to the coast and work your way down," I said.  
"What about the water? We have no boat."  
"We may have to make a makeshift raft, or else see if we can steal a small fishing boat."  
"I have seen a few at the docks, mostly just small life boats."  
"That would work….But stealing one from the Japs would be the hard part."  
"We would have to work at night."  
"How would we get out of the camp? I don't know about you, but I would rather not get fucken shot."  
"We are going to have to get some weapons."  
"Where the fuck are we going to get that?"  
"The armory of course."  
"Steel from the damn armory?"  
James and Charles look at me.  
"Yes," I said, "We will move out tonight, I don't think the Japs guard the armory at night. We can steal some bayonets and maybe a pistol if we're lucky."  
James looks at me.  
"You know," he says, "If Yokima or his goons catch us, we will be shot, or sent to the Devils Den."  
"Then be shot," Charles said.  
James looks at me like he is thinking.  
"Lets do it," he said.  
"We will move out tonight, after last roll call, and when we are concealed to our barracks."

*** Yokima walks down the isles of prisoners. If we so much, as look at him, he will knock the person in the face.  
"Eyes forward!" Yokima demands.  
I glance over at James.  
In a heartbeat, Yokima jumps in front of me.  
"What are you looking at?" he demands.  
I say nothing.  
"Answer me thilth!" Yokima orders.  
"Nothing sir," I mumble, "I thought I saw something."  
Yokima glares at me, then moves on.  
Yokima returns to the front of the prisoners.  
"You are dismissed!" Yokima annonces, "Everyone is to stay in their barracks until further notice!"  
Everyone walks off and I walk back to the barracks with James.  
"Operation is still a go?" James asks.  
"Yes," I said.

***  
Night falls fast. The entire camp is cloaked with darkness, the only light is from the search lights in the guard towers, where an M.G. is ready to hit us if spotted.  
I look out the small window in the back of our barracks.  
Right across the small street, are more barracks. To the right is the front of the camp, and on the left, is the long way to the end of the camp.  
"We're going to have to sneak out the window," I whisper.  
I look out one last time.  
I then climb over the side, and hit the ground on my feet, I crouch under the window.  
"Okay come on," I whisper.  
James and Charles climb out the window and stay low next to me.  
"Alright," I whisper, "Keep low and follow me."  
We creep over to the alleyway between our barracks and the next. Just in front of us, is the camp courtyard. Right across is the commandant's house/office, the officers quarters where Yokima sleeps, right next to the officers quarters, is the armory. I look around the corner to see the guard tower at the front gate. But the M.G. is not as terrifying as the guards walking in our direction.  
"Under the barracks," I whisper.  
We crawl under the barracks, in a matter of seconds, we hear the sound of boots hitting the dirt in front of us. Another second and we see two pairs of black boots right in front of our faces, and chills run down our spines, as they come to a stop. They shift around a little, but our dies do not leave them.  
With a stroke of luck, the soldiers walk away down the rows of barracks. I poke my head out and wait for them to be about five or six barracks down.  
"It's safe," I whisper.  
We crawl back into the alley way and look for anymore guards.  
"I'm going across," James said, "If its clear, I'll signal you."  
"Be careful," I said.  
James nods, sneaks up front. James pokes his head out and looks both ways down the courtyard, he then carefully takes a few steps out into the courtyard slowly. James takes off in a little jog, and we watch in fright, hoping he does not get caught.  
"Come on, come on," I say under my breath.  
A minute later, James makes it across courtyard and is kneeling down next to the armory. James looks down the courtyard and signals for us to come.  
"Alright lets go," I whisper.  
Charles and I sneak onto the courtyard and start to jog across.  
"Asoko ni wa nan to iu kotodeshita? Sore o chekku auto suru koto ga dekimasu!" we hear a guard yell.  
"We've been spotted," Charles whispers.  
"Not yet," I whisper, "Get under the officers quarters."  
We scrambled under the building and watch as the guards from before stand in the middle of the courtyard.  
"Hei! Daun koko ni hikariwoateru!" one of the guards yells to the guard tower.  
Suddenly a light is shined down onto the courtyard.  
"Get back," I whisper.  
We crawl further back.  
"Creak!...Creak!...Creak!...Creak!" the sound of floorboards is heard right above our heads, and I know it can only be one person making that noise, Yokima.  
"Soto koko de itadakimashitaga okotte iru no? Repōto!" the sound of the devils voice demands.  
"Mūbumentokyapitan! Watashitachiha undō sā o mita to omotta!" one of the guards yells to Yokima.  
"Whatever they are talking about," Charles whispers, "Can't be good."  
"Shh!" I say covering Charles mouth.  
The scene falls silent.  
"Nakaniwa o kensaku!" Yokima orders.  
A moment later we hear the sound of the floorboards creaking again.  
"Lets go," I whisper.  
We crawl back into the alley, then sneak around to the back of the armory.  
There is a small window, I carefully peer inside. Its dark, nobody is in there.  
"Nobody is there," I whisper, "Give me a hand."  
I grab the sill of the window, while James and Charles help me up.  
Once I am inside, I start searching for weapons. It's so dark, it's hard to see anything, I try not to knock anything over to create noise.  
I look around until I find a box, when I open it, its full of bayonets. I grab three from the bottom of the box, so nobody would notice the ones missing on top. Then I see something in the corner of my eye. I turn around to see a pistol sitting on a table, next to it is a pouch of magazines. I grab the pistol and magazines, then shove them in my pants.  
"Watch out below," I whisper then throw the bayonets down.  
"Great," James said. "What now?" Charles asks, "Head to port?"  
"No," I whisper, "We have done enough for tonight, besides, Yokima probably called the port to warn about the possibility of escaped prisoners. We'll have to go another night."  
"Lets go around the camp, we won't be spotted that way."

Chapter: 9 Johnny "Unbelievable," Boucher says, "Just yesterday, the beach was covered with blood and bodies, yet today, they take a swim?"  
Boucher and I are sitting on the rock ledges of Normandy, just below are soldiers all skinny dippin on the beach. There are no bodies on the beach anymore, they were cleared yesterday. But the thought still lingers.  
"Hey Schmidt, and Frenchy," Paxton walks over to us.  
"Yes sir?" I ask.  
Paxton stops and looks at us.  
"Our company is moving out," he says, "The 101st Airborne and 502nd are closing in on Carentan. It's about time to move out."  
Boucher and I stand up, and I sling my rifle over my shoulder.  
We walk with Paxton back to our company, the regiment slept around the busted A.A. battery which we destroyed yesterday. Now everyone is packed up and ready to go.  
"Company moveout!" Captain Dyer commands.  
Everyone gets up on their feet, and walks behind the command. O'Malley is given an Army Jeep to ride, while the rest of us get to walk.  
"Stay alert!" Dyer yells, "There may be Krauts on the way!"  
Our company leaves the A.A. battery and soon get onto a road leaving Normandy beach. As soon as we get on the road we see a sign that reads in English:

Carentan: 18 miles Saint Lo: 36 miles Normandy: 60 miles

Bur right under the sign, someone painted in black:

Berlin: Who the fuck knows!  
Berchtesgaden: On a mountain!  
Hitlers Ass: Soon to be in Hell!  
Give em' Hell boys!

Some men from our company laugh as we pass the sign, even I laugh a little.

***  
After about three hours of walking, we arrived just outside of a forest.  
"Alright listen up!" Dyer said, "At the other side of these woods, should be Carentan! Buddy up and when we get to the edge of the woods, dig a foxhole and share it! Stay alert! There may be Germans out there! Lets move, and stay close!"  
Dyer and O'Malley start walking through the woods, we follow close behind with our rifles ready. The woods are thick with pine trees, spruce trees, and dense thicket.  
The tall grass and soil muffles the sound of our boots, the only sound heard is the occasional snap of a twig. "Hey," I said to Boucher, "Isn't French names suppose to mean something?"  
"Yes," Boucher said, "At times."  
"Does yours mean anything?"  
"Yes, in French, Boucher, means 'butcher'."  
"Seems like an appropriate name in these times."  
Boucher and I find ourselves in the front of our company.  
Dyer and O'Malley suddenly stop.  
The company gets down low to the ground. A moment later, and Dyer and O'Malley get down as well.  
"Kraut," Dyer says quietly.  
I look further into tanglement of trees, and see a German soldier, not SS or Waffen SS. Just a simple army man, greenish-gray uniform, black-grey helmet, green-gray pants that tuck into his black boots, a pack, and a rifle at his side.  
Dyer looks at me.  
"Schmit? No, Schmitty," Dyer says.  
"Yes sir," I said.  
"Your position is a translator right?"  
"Yes sir."  
"See if you can get the Kraut to surrender, if he doesn't come easy, shoot him."  
"Yes sir."  
I get up slowly, with my rifle ready.  
"Kommen Sie her," I said 'come over here', "Jetzt." I say 'now'.  
The Kraut notices me, and looks at me with fright, he frantically turns around and starts running.  
"Amerikaner! Hilfe! Tötet sie !" the german yells while running 'Americans! Help! Kill them!'.  
I look down my rifles sight, its aimed right at the running German.  
"BANG!" I shoot the German.  
The bullet goes through the Germans helmet and he falls dead.  
"Hopefully nobody heard that," I said.  
"The woods are thick," O'Malleys said, "It more likely would have been a muffled noise."  
Dyer turns and faces the regiment.  
"Lets keep moving!" he orders.  
Everyone gets up and starts walking.  
A moment later we find ourselves at the edge of the woods. Just across a large pasture, is Carentan. Dyer pulls out his binoculars and looks at Carentan.  
"Start digging foxholes," O'Malley orders, "Keep an eye on Carentan, also look for the 101st, the 502nd, the 82nd, or any other airborne units. If we find them we can let them know we are here."  
"Sir," Dyer said, "Take a look."  
Dyer hands his binoculars to O'Malley.  
I also take out my own and have a look at Carentan.  
I see running through the street, are a bunch of Panzerfaust troopers running. I can just barely hear them yelling.  
"Aus dem Weg ! Aus dem Weg !" someone is yelling 'Out of the way'.  
Suddenly out of nowhere, a large Panzer tank roles across the street and disappears behind a building.  
"Does the Airborne know about that?" Dyer asks.  
"I'm not sure," O'Malley answers, "But if they don't, they are in for a big surprise."  
I look through the binoculars towards a large tree line on the north side, I see movement. I look closer and I see American soldiers.  
"Sir," I said, "I see some of our boys over there."  
I point to the north.  
O'Malley looks to the north.  
"Must be them," he says, "Soldier."  
O'Malley looks at me.  
"Yes sir," I said.  
"See if you can get over there, tell them that there is a Panzer in the town, and more likely some artillery as well."  
"Yes sir."  
I take off through the woods towards the unit. The woods are so thick that I have to push branches and bushes aside as I run, if I wasn't wearing my helmet, I may have gotten a good whack in the head. "Augh," I below as I jump over a fallen tree.  
Suddenly I trip and fall to the ground, next thing I know I feel someone grab me and turn my onto my back, my first thought is that a Kraut has got me.  
But I see that the Kraut that tripped me, is not a Kraut, it one of our guys. "Who the hell are you?" the soldier demands, "And what the fuck are you doing running around?"  
I look at the soldier and see his sleeve insignia is of the 502nd Airborne. "You the 502nd?" I ask.  
"Yes," the soldier says, "And who the hell are you?"  
"Private Schmidt, 60th Illinois Regiment, United States Army."  
"United States Army, no shit."  
The paratrooper gets off me and helps me up.  
"Now what are you doing here?" he asks.  
"I was sent by my regiment C.O.," I said, "He wants me to warn the Airborne units a Panzer tank was seen in Carentan, also that there may very well be some artillery as well."  
"Shit, I will notify my C.O. at once, this will change plans a bit. Are you here to aid us in the fight?"  
"Nope, our mission is to search the town after Carentan is taken."  
"Alright. If we take the town, that Panzer will be a pain in the ass. Go ahead and return to your regiment private, I'll report the news to my C.O."  
I turn and walk off as does the paratrooper.

***  
Boucher and I dug a foxhole a little far from the edge of the woods. O'Malley ordered for us to keep our distance from Carentan a little far, just so we wouldn't risk getting spotted by the Germans.  
Our company has been in the woods for a couple days, it is now the morning of the tenth.  
"Huh," Boucher said net to me, "Any longer and I would assume just-"  
"BOOM!" artillery fire is heard in the town.  
Everyone in our unit, look to the town with shock.  
"Put-tut! Put-tut! Put-tut! Put-tut!" an M.G. is softly heard in the town, "Put-tut! Put-tut!...Put-tut!...Put-tut! Put-tut! Put-tut! Put-tut!"  
"BOOM!...BOOM!...BOOM!" the artillery fire continues.  
I take my binoculars and look down at Carentan. I see a bunch of German Panzerfaust troopers running down the street to the right of town.  
Suddenly, areas of Carentan start to explode with debris flying through the air.  
"They're droppin mortars," I said.  
"VIEW!...BOOM!" I look down a street and watch as the side of a building blows up, Krauts fall dead from the impact.  
They are yelling so loud for help, that I can just barely hear them. "Hilfe! Sanitäter! Bitte helfen Sie !" they yell for a medic and beg for help.  
I stop looking through the binoculars.  
"I think I'm going to go see what the hell is going on," I said.  
I get up and start walking to where the battle is going on. I get about sixty yards out, and I see what's going on over at Carentan.  
Just at the edge of town is a lake, but where I am standing is a large strait of water. Going across the strait, is a large bridge. I look through my binoculars to see men running away from the bridge as artillery fire forces them back. I try to get a closer look at what their division is, and based on the insignia on their arms, I think its the 502nd. I turn my attention to just past the bridge, and right at the water below. I can see small boats, with more paratroopers of the 502nd in them, all trying to get across the strait.  
I turn around and start walking back to my regiment. Everyone is listening closely to the artillery fire in the town, and everyone is ready for an attack.  
"What is going on?" Boucher asks as I walk over to our foxhole.  
I stand in front of the foxhole.  
"Oh," I said, "The 502nd is pressing on the right of Carentan."  
"Hows the progress?"  
"Not good. The bridge is being bombarded by fucken artillery fire and our boys are trying to cross a strait of water."  
"oh non , merde," Boucher says something in French.  
I am pretty sure he said first 'oh no', but I don't know what 'merde' means. I am guessing its some cuss word.  
I jump down into the hole next to Boucher. But as I hit the bottom of the whole, my satchel opens up, causing the Lugar I got from Linkmeyer to fall out.  
Bouchers eyes lock onto the pistol.  
"Oh monsieur!" Jac says in French, "Vous avez un Lugar ! Très agréable!"  
I look at Boucher in confusion.  
"What?" I said, "If you're going to talk, speak some damn english."  
Boucher rolls his eyes.  
"The Lugar," he said, "You have one, where did you get it?"  
"Back at the beach," I say, "Remember the SS major who was taken prisoner? You fucken flipped out on him."  
"Oh yeah, that shit face."  
I feel like contradicting Jac on that comment, but I let it slide.  
"Yes," I said, "When our squad took him and his men prisoner, I had to take their weapons, standard order. He had a Lugar on him, so I took it."  
"Lucky bastard," Jac says, "Got anything else?"  
"Yeah."  
I reach into my bag and pull out the Hitler Youth knife I took from the kid. "HJ knife," Boucher said, "Nice find."  
"I guess," I said, "Maybe by the end of the war, I might bring a flag home."  
Just then the man named Donovan from our unit walks over.  
"Schmitty right?" Donovan says.  
"Yes," I said.  
Donovan takes a seat on the edge of our foxhole, he takes off his helmet and sets it aside.  
"You were over there a minute ago right?" Donovan asks.  
"Yes."  
"So what the hell is going on over there?"  
"502nd is trying to take Carentan."  
"No shit. Where are they attacking?"  
"On the right of the town, where the strait of water is."  
"Hows the progress?"  
"Not sure, when I was over there, they were trying to cross the water by raft since the bridge is being held down by artillery fire."  
Donovan nods.  
"I don't think we know each other much," Donovan said, "I'm Donovan, Eric Donovan."  
Eric shakes my hand.  
"Johnson Schmitty," I say my name, "But you can call me John or Schmit."  
Eric nods.  
"And who are you Frenchy?" Eric asks Jac.  
"Jacques Boucher," Jac said.  
"And what the hell you doing with us?" "I'm a French interpreter."  
"Well you ain't here to make bread, so that makes sense."  
"So you think that all Frenchman make bread? Aug, Americans, good for fighting, not so much for brains or commonsense."  
"Watch it Frenchy….So do you know where we are heading after Carentan?"  
"Not that I am aware of," I said.  
Eric takes out a cigarette and lights up.  
"Saint Lo," he says, "Thats at least what I have heard, but they may just be rumors….I don't know why we should even bother, there is probably no life there anyway."  
"What?" Boucher asks.  
"You haven't heard Frenchy? Our boys have done a lot of damage bombing the place….Whoever survived it, is probably the luckiest man, woman, or child alive."  
Jac looks like he is about to be sick, and frankly I feel the same.  
Eric stares off into space for a second.  
"Well," he said, "I'm gonna head back to my foxhole. Thanks for the news."  
Eric walks off into the woods.  
I listen closely to the sound of the fight nearby, and I can tell that our company will be here awhile

***  
"Schmitt wake up," Bocher shakes me awake.  
I jump up thinking Boucher was trying to warn me about something. But I see there is nobody around us.  
"What is it?" I ask, "What time is it."  
"Around 06:00," Eric says walking over to our foxhole.  
Its kind of dark out, the sky is a dark blue color, and fog rolls across the scene. "If you're thinking its fog," Donovan says, "You're wrong, its smoke. Look."  
Eric points to Carentan, and at the edge of town is a large cloud of gray smoke.  
"What's happening?" I ask.  
"We don't know," Jac says.  
"Looks like a smokescreen."  
"Must be a surprise attack," Eric said.  
"Bayonet charge?" I ask.  
"Probably."  
Chapter: 10 Johnny

(2 days later)  
"Lets go!" Dyer orders, "Head for the town, and check every building!"  
The Airborne divisions have cleared out the town not that long ago, it is now around 03:00, and we are about to step foot into Carentan.  
Jac pulls himself out of the foxhole and follows me to Carentan, we got our rifles ready and are prepared to shoot anything that jumps in front of us. We walk out of the woods and into the field of tall grass. Men from our unit are scattered about in all directions, but all walking the same way.  
The field is wet and muddy, sometimes our feet would sink into the mud, and one of us would have to pry the other out. In a matter of moments we get up to the town, and we get a closer look at the destruction.  
Some of the buildings have gaping holes in their sides, a lot without a roof, but some managed to stay up. Boucher and I enter the town and I try not to break my ankles as I walk across the field of debris. Once we are across the debris, I look down the street to see paratroopers walking down towards us. One of them stops and looks at us.  
"Who the hell are you?" he asks.  
"Private Schmitty, 60th Illinois Regiment," I said.  
"Alright, I'm Private Christianson, 101st Airborne. Now what the fuck are you doing here?"  
"Our unit is to clear the town."  
"Wasn't your company the ones who reported the Panther tank in the area?"  
"Yes."  
"Yeah, you said there was only one, oh no, there was more than one."  
"Oh, sorry about that."  
"Look, be fucken careful when searching the town, there may still be a few Panzerfaust and paratroopers in the town. Watch out for bazookas and M.G. nests."  
"Thanks, we'll smoke em out."  
The paratrooper walks off with his regiment.  
"Come on," I say to Boucher, "Lets search the buildings."  
Boucher and I walk across the street to a slightly broken down building with a painted sign that reads 'Hôtel Normandie'.  
I say, "I'm guessing this is a hotel?"  
"Yes," Boucher said, "I once stayed in this hotel when I was going to see my family in Vennes."  
"Is it nice?" "Its alright, of course it looked better before the shelling."  
Boucher and I walk over the rubble that was once the wall of the hotel. The large hole now exposes the hotel lobby. The lobby is covered with dust from the rubble, and the floor covered with soot from what I assume was a fireplace that is now buried under the rubble.  
Towards the back wall is the hotel desk that has been knocked over on its side, the papers, newspapers, and lamp that once sit on the desk now on the floor. The grandfather clock that once stood in the corner of the room, now lies on the rug in a pile of glass.  
Pictures on the wall are now on tilted or broken on the floor. Next to the pictures is the beautiful chandelier that once hung from the ceiling. On the left side wall is a staircase that leads to the hotel rooms above.  
"I'll go check upstairs," Boucher said.  
"Alright," I said, "I'll check the bottom floor and a basement, if there is one, hollar if you hear anything."  
Boucher nods. He readies his rifle and walks up the stairs. As for me, I walk to the back wall where a door is opened just a crack. A gold sign on the door reads 'directeur', I'm guessing it means the hotel director or manager.  
I hold up my rifle and kick the door open as I charge in. The room has a small bed with a metal frame, next to the bed is a dresser with its drawers open. The corner of the room has a pot-bellied stove, in the other corner is a small icebox. I check the closets, but only to find nobody in them. With nobody in the room, I decide to leave. But as I leave, in the corner of my eye, I see under the bed, a small hatch door cut into the floor. I walk over to the bed and pull it away, revealing the hatch.  
I set my rifle down and with my right hand, I pull out my pistol. With my left, I pull out the bayonet and use it to pry the hatch up. Under the hatch is a small dark crawl space, only big enough to crawl around on your hands and knees. I jump back as I watch an elderly man wearing black pants, gray wool sweater, and brown beret. crawl into view. He gets up from the crawlspace, and raises his hands. "Don't tirer, se il vous plaît," the old man says.  
The old man bends down to the crawlspace and puts out his hands.  
"Je étais juste les aider," the old man says, "venez, venez , vous pouvez venir en sortir." the old man says into the hole.  
A moment later, three scrawny people emerge out of the crawl space. Two boys, and one girl. All of them are dirty, with thick wool coats and pants on. One of the boys looks to be the oldest, he looks to be around eighteen, his hair is black and coated with grease, and eyes brown and tired. The other boy looks to be the next youngest and looks to be around eight years old, his hair to is black with grease. The girl looks to be around sixteen, with blondish-brown hair covered with grease as well, and her eyes gold like precious values.  
The old man looks to the oldest.  
"Le patch , lui montrer le patch," the old man points to the teens coat pocket.  
The boy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a yellow patch in the shape of a star, its the Star of David. In the middle of the patch reads in black letters 'Jude', which is German for 'Jew'.  
I slowly walk over to the doorway into the lobby.  
"Jac I need you!" I yell to the staircase.  
A second later, Jac comes running down the stairs and into the room and looks at the people.  
"Whats going on here?" Boucher asks.  
"The old man speaks French," I said, "I have no fucken idea what there saying."  
Boucher looks the old man.  
"Bonjour vieil homme," Boucher says, "Quel est votre nom? Et ce qui se passe ici?"  
"Bonjour soldat , mon nom est Adrien," the old man says, "Ce sont des Juifs en fuite , je ai été de les cacher de la Gestapo française ." The old man gestures to the three teens.  
"Whats he saying?" I ask Boucher.  
Boucher looks at me.  
"He says," Boucher says, "His name is Adrien, and these people here are runaway Jews. He has been hiding them from the French Gestapo."  
I look at the Jews, then put away my pistol and bayonet.  
"Ask if they speak French or better yet German," I said.  
"Adrien , parlent-ils français ou en allemand ?" Jac translates.  
Adrien looks at Jac.  
"Oui , et je ne beleive le plus ancien parle allemand," Adrien says nodding and points to the oldest.  
"He says yes, they all speak French, and he does believe the oldest speaks German."  
I look at the oldest.  
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" I ask the kid.  
"Ja sir, wenig," the Jew says he does a little.  
"Wie ist dein name?" I ask 'What is your name?'.  
The Jew look at me.  
"Oh! Mein name ist Abel Baruch," the Jew says to me.  
I nod my head.  
"Nun, Abel, wo sind deine Eltern ?" I ask where are his parents.  
Abel looks at me in confusion.  
"Eltern?" I repeat, "Wo sind sie?"  
Abel still looks confused.  
"Alright," I said, "Boucher, translate. As him where are his parents."  
"Où sont vos parents?" Boucher asks.  
Abel shakes his head, "Nous vivions dans Fougères lorsque les Allemands envahirent , ils ont pris mère et le père , et nous havent vus depuis ."  
"Je suis désolé d'entendre que."  
"What did he say?" I ask.  
Jac turns his attention back to me, the look on his face is grave.  
"The Germans," Boucher shakes his head, "They lived in Fougères when the Krauts invaded. They took their mother and father, they haven't seen them since."  
"Why did they take them?" I ask.  
"They're Jews, the Jerries take them away, since they are believed to be a burden or nonhuman."  
"To where?"  
"Nobody knows. We have been told that they are being kept away somewhere away from society. And it is a crime to harbor runaway Jews, an act punishable by death."  
Jac faces the old caretaker.  
"Leur prochain arrêt est Le Mans droit ?" Jac asks.  
"Oui, monsieur, comment saviez-vous ?" Adrien says.  
"Je étais membre de la Résistance française , je sais ces choses."  
I tap Boucher on the shoulder to get his attention, he reacts and looks at me.  
"What are you talking about?" I ask.  
"Oh, we are talking about the Jews next stop," Boucher says.  
"What do you mean?"  
"When I was a part of the Resistance, we would try and get Jews out of the country every now and then. They're to head to Switzerland, where it is a-"  
"Neutral region," I finish Boucher sentence, "Of course."  
"Yes, they will hide in the mountains, the Germans wouldn't dare try and take Switzerland, the mountains work to the Swiss armies advantage, the Krauts wouldn't stand a chance." "They have quite the distance still."  
I face Abel.  
"Haben Sie eine Waffe?" I ask if he has a weapon.  
"Keine, keine," Abel says no.  
I reach into my satchel and pull out a small single shot firearm called a 'Liberator'. Its not suppose to be a temporary weapon, its mainly what we would give civilians for protection, they could use the pistol on an enemy then take his weapon.  
"Here," I said in German and toss the pistol to Abel, "Take this, it has one shot, use it wisely, kill a German, take his weapon."  
Abel looks at the small handgun.  
"One shot….Kill German," Abel says in German.  
"Yes, then take his weapon."  
Abel looks at me confused.  
"Jac," I said, "Tell Abel that after he kills a German, to take his weapon and ammunition."  
"Right," Boucher said facing Able, "Tuer un Allemand , puis prendre son arme et de munitions."  
"Oui, Monsieur," Able says to Jac, Abel then faces me, "Tank Sie Soldat."  
"Ja," I said, "Viel Glück für Sie." I say wishing them luck.  
I turn to walk out of the room and into the destroyed lobby.  
"Bonne chance à vous tous," I hear Boucher say behind me, "Et merci monsieur, pour votre aide ."  
Boucher walks out.  
"Oh," I say, "Hold on a second."  
I turn and walk back into the old mans room. I look at Able as I reach into my bag that is hooked to my belt and pull out some items from my C-rations. Which contains preserved, pre-cooked, canned food. Usually C-rations give us canned soup or broth, dry biscuits, and some candies like chocolate or caramels.  
I toss the oldest a can of soup and the girl a tin with some biscuits in it.  
Abel and the girl looks at me confused.  
"Suppe," I say that its soup and motion with my hands like I'm eating.  
I point at the tin of biscuits that the girl is holding.  
"Gebäck," I say that its biscuits and act like I'm eating again.  
Abel's face lightens up like a Christmas tree. He looks at his sister.  
"Ses biscuits et de la soupe ," Abel says to his sister, "Il nous a donné de la nourriture."  
The girl looks at me and smiles, she runs up to me. Gives me a hug and kisses me on the cheek.  
"Merci, merci," she says in the sweetest voice, I don't know French, but I know she is thanking me.  
"Danke soldat," Abel said.  
"Haben Sie ein Messer ?" I ask if he has a knife. With saying that, I make a cutting motion. "Ja," Abel says 'yes'.  
"Gut," I say 'good'.  
The girl walks back to her brother.  
I walk over next to the hatch and pick my rifle up, the I turn and start to walk out. But I stop at the doorway and look at the kid. I reach into my bag and pull out a chocolate bar, and I toss it to the kid.  
He catches it, looks at it, then looks at me.  
"It's chocolate," I said, "Enjoy."  
The boy tears open the paper paging, revealing the thick brick of chocolate. He takes a bite into it, and smiles.  
I smile back at him, then walk out.  
Boucher looks at me and smiles.  
"Isn't it a crime," he said, "To give your food to civilians."  
"Its not a crime," I said, "You're just not suppose to."  
Boucher and I walk out into the street.  
"Did you find anyone?" I ask.  
"No, nobody was up there," Jac answers.  
"Hey Johnny!" Donovan yells from across the street, "You want to join our patrol? Were going to check out a couple blocks."  
"Sure," I said, "Come on Jac."  
Boucher and I walk over to Donovan and his patrol of five men. "Did you find any Krauts?" Donovan asks.  
I glance at Jac.  
"Ah, no," I said, "Just an old Frenchman."  
Donovan nods.  
"Theres probably some down the way," he says, "Keep your eyes open."  
Donovan takes lead of the small patrol and we start walking down the street.  
"So whats your name kid?" a sergeant says next to me.  
The sergeant appears to be in his early thirties, his combat uniform dirty, sergeants rank on his arms as well as his helmet, and he carries an M1 Carbine.  
"Private Johnny Schmitty, sir," I said.  
"Don't start any of that rank bullshit Schmitt. The only ranks you should address by 'sir' are those of higher commanding officers." "And your name sergeant?"  
"Sergeant Ellis Howe. You'll get to know most of the men in our regiment pretty fast. I did, I was first stationed in Italy back in 1941, in 1942 my unit was sent to the African front, and about two weeks before the invasion, I was transferred to this unit."  
"Why were you transferred?"  
"My C.O. got an order from some Brit officer, requesting our units best men for leading a unit, my C.O. reported me to him….Anyway, I got to learn who these men here real fast. Thats Eric Springs." Howe points to a corporal, Eric nods. "Over there is Pete Reynolds." The private named Reynolds tips his helmet. "Oh that guy with the smug look on his face, is Berry Monov." Berry, another private give a little laugh, "And that bastard there, is Tyler Quakes." Tyler's rank is as a technical fifth grade.  
"Nice to meet y'all," I said, "Say Ellis, I know you said ranks doesn't matter hear, but, shouldn't you a sergeant, be leading this patrol, and not Donovan, a private?"  
The sergeant realises that he is not the one leading the unit.  
"Hot damn you right," Ellis said, "Donovan, for Gods sake, what the hell you doing? I'm the sergeant!"  
Ellis walks up to Donovan.  
"Well sarge," Donovan said, "You didn't seem to take command in the first place."  
"Get back," sarge said.  
Donovan got back and Ellis takes lead.  
Ellis leads us around a corner where down the street is a blown up German soldier transport truck and some buildings lay in rubble all along the street side, if not that, have a massive hole in the side. Three Krauts lie dead, one facing down on a pile of rubble, another sitting inside the truck slouched over the wheel, and the last one is sitting up against the trucks front wheel with a streak of blood coming out of his mouth, with his head resting on his shoulder.  
"So where you from?" Pete Reynolds walks up and asks me.  
"Chicago," I answer.  
"Chicago huh? I'm live pretty close to Chicago, I'm from Kankakee, ever been?"  
"Yeah, I went through once. Nice place."  
"So where were you when we hit the beach?"  
"Paxton got my company onto the beach, we advanced from there."  
"Paxton huh? Say! Weren't you the boys that knocked that pillbox?"  
"Yes, I was the guy who through the grenade."  
"Fine work there. Yeah, Monov and Springs pulled me out of the water, and helped get my ass on the beach, we ended up cowering behind an obstacle trying to dodge bullets, hell, we were still in the water when that happened. Hey, at least were still alive."  
"BANG!" Suddenly a shot is heard out of nowhere, and a bullet pierces through Pete's helmet. His blood gushes out of the bullet hole, and trickles down his face. Pete crumbles onto the street.  
"Sniper!" Ellis yells, "Find cover!"  
Our patrol scrambles, but I stand still, senseless of what happened.  
In the corner of my eye, I see Donovan running at me, a moment later, he grabs me and pulls me down behind the truck where Boucher, Molov, and Howe take cover.  
I look over to see Petes lifeless eyes staring at me, but then again, there is that small chance that he could still be alive, I begin to crawl out to get him.  
"Johnny!" Donovan grabs me.  
He tries to pull me back, but I struggle.  
"Johnny God damn it!" Donovan yells, "He's dead! And you're no use to us dead!"  
Donovan pulls be back, but I soon find myself shoved up to the trucks side by Howe.  
"He's dead son!" sarge says, "We now need to focus on getting that fucking sniper, or more of us will die."  
I look over across the street to see the rest of the patrol taking cover in an alleyway. "Monov," Ellis said, "See if you can get that sniper to show himself."  
"Right away," Monov said.  
Monov takes his helmet off, and with his rifle he balances the helmet by putting the inside of his helmet on the end of his barrel. Then slowly raises the helmet above the trucks hood. Meanwhile, Ellis keeps a wary eye on the street.  
"BANG!"  
The snipers bullet bounces off the trucks hood with a loud ping noise. Monov puts his helmet back on and looks at Ellis.  
"Got em?" he asks.  
"Yeah," sarge answers, "Second floor balcony doorways, four buildings down. And we don't have a damn mortar or grenade launcher, to take him out. Were going to have to take him out at close range."  
"That means someone has to go out there."  
"Unfortunately."  
We all look at each other.  
"I'll go," I said.  
"You sure?" Donovan asks.  
"Yes, just give me some cover fire."  
I get over the the side of the back of the truck that faces a Cafe next to us. I look behind me to the guys, and I nod.  
"BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!" they all rise up and start firing in the snipers direction, "BANG!...BANG! BANG!...BANG! BANG! BANG!"  
I jump out from behind the truck and run as fast as I can down the row of buildings to a stack of crates sitting on the sidewalk. I try not to step wrong and twist my ankle, but in a matter of seconds, I slide behind the crates.  
I look up from the crates to see the snipers position, I can see his barrel and scope slowly moving into sight. I crawl over the crates and move carefully to the entrance of the apartment building. I burst inside with my rifle ready, nobody in the lobby. I walk over to a hallway and slowly walk down to see a staircase going to the second floor. I stop at the corner and peek around it, nobody at the ledge. I go around the corner and start to creep up the stairs, every step I take, I can hear the noise of the wooden steps creaking beneath my feet. Before I know it, I'm halfway to the top and I am able to see the doors to the rooms above.  
"BANG!" A shot is heard throughout the house.  
I continue up the stairs and I am soon at the top. I see a door that is cracked open just slightly, but I can see the heel of a soldiers boot lying on the floor. I slowly creep over to the door with my rifle ready.  
I get up to the door, and with the barrel of my rifle, I begin to open the door, hoping that it wouldn't squeak. Thank the Lord it doesn't. When I'm inside, I see a German paratrooper lying down on his stomach, facing the balcony. He wears a green and brown camo long coat, brown helmet, and his gear strapped to his belt and back.  
"Click-click!" the sniper pulls the lever action back and forth, and puts in a new round.  
I walk over to him slowly hoping I can hit him with the butt of my rifle, to perform a quite attack, rather than shooting him and alerting possible enemy reinforcements. But as soon as my boot hits the wrong floorboard.  
"Creek!" the floorboard moans.  
The sniper rolls over onto his back.  
"BANG!" the sniper fires point blank and misses me.  
He jumps up and charges me with his rifle "Ahhh!" he yells.  
I counter his attack with my rifle, the attack has so much force that I almost fall backwards. I use all my strength in keeping him at bay, and with all my might I kick him in the shin, disorienting him. I manage to push him back up against the wall, but even then he can still fight with enormous strength. The German groans and grunts with anger.  
I look at him the eyes, and a thought comes over me.  
"Verdammt!" I I cuss in German.  
I rear my head back and headbutt him in full force.  
"Augh!" the Kraut moans.  
The sniper loosens his grip on the rifle, so I ignore the ringing in my head and grab the rifle. But the sniper reacts quickly and pulls the rifle out of my hands, but as he pulls it away, is slips out of his hand and goes flying to the corner of the room.  
The German raises his leg and kicks me hard below the ribcage, knocking the wind out of me. The impact makes me drop my rifle, and I fall backwards onto the floor with my helmet that flies off my head. The Kraut lunges at me, and pins me to the floor. He pins my arms with his knees and he grabs my throat and starts to strangle me.  
I can't reach my pistol, but I can feel the hilt my bayonet with my fingertips. I can feel myself losing consciousness, with my last bit of effort, I reach harder for the knife. I'm able to wrap my finger around it and pull it out, I get my hand around it and I jab the blade into the Krauts thigh.  
"Ahhh!" he yells in agony.  
The German hobbles off the ground and grabs at his bloodied thigh. I get and charge him with the bayonet, I swing at his head and cut his cheek. I swing again, I miss when the German dodges the blow. He gets back and pulls out his own bayonet, I walk backwards, but trip over my rifle and fall on my ass.  
The sniper takes three deep breaths and charges.  
I grab my rifle from under me and pull it up.  
"BANG!" I fire point blank and I hit him in the chest.  
The Kraut falls to his knees and lands on top of me.  
"Ahh," I sigh in exhaustion.  
I roll the German over on his side, and I get up. My jacket is covered with blood from where I shot him in the chest.  
I look at the dead German soldier's face and I fall to my knees. I now realise what I have just done, I killed a man. Yes, I have faced Normandy and witnessed death. But there is something about this one, that me with a feeling of emptiness. I put my hand over the German soldiers eyes and close them. Yes, we may be enemies, but we are still humans. I reach over, grab my helmet, and put it on my head.  
"Johnny you up there!?" I hear Ellis call.  
I get up and walk over to the balcony. Ellis, who stands below at the street, lowers his rifle when he sees me.  
"You alright kid?" he asks.  
"Fine," I reply.  
"Well come on! We got to get moving."  
I look down the street to see Monov taking Pete's dog tags, and Donovan placing a green blanket over Pete's body.  
I turn around, pick up my rifle, and begin to walk out of the house to join the rest.

Chapter: 11 George

"Cover your ears!" Someone yells.  
I get away from the ship rail, cover my ears, and look towards our heavy guns that are aimed towards Saipan.  
"BOOM!" the Indianapolis jerks a little as two of the main guns fire three rounds each. I watch the glowing six shells flying in the air towards Saipan. One shell hits the water creating a large geyser of water to rocket through the air. Another shell hits the beach, and the rest seem to hit the island jungle. "BOOM!" another three shells are launched, only this time just from the bow of the ship.  
"BOOM!...BOOM!" two of our battery is let off at the poop deck.  
I look off the ships bow to see two more battleships in our line, all too bombarding the island. From what I know of, there are three more ships behind ours that are also keeping the island under rapid shelling.  
As I focus on the mass shelling, I suddenly notice that nature is calling. So I turn and head inside the ship to the nearest latrine. I take a flight of stairs down into a hallway, take ten paces, and turn left down another flight of stairs. Once down there, take another left and walk.  
But as I walk down the hallway, I see a soldier walking towards me, a Marine. His face red from the tears he shed, and his right hand shaking while wielding a pistol. He abruptly stops fifteen feet in front of me, and looks at me.  
"Hold on pal," I calmly say fearing why he has the gun, I slowly hold out my hand, "Just hand me the gun, and you can be on your way."  
A tear runs down the Marines cheek as he breaths frantically. He puts up his firearm and aims right at me, still shaking.  
My heart starts to beat at a fast rate.  
"Look buddy," I try to sound calm, "You don't have to do this."  
The Marine slowly puts the gun up to his head.  
"Wait no!" I yell.  
"BANG!" the shot echos through the ship. A blast even louder than the guns above.  
The marine falls to the ice cold floor. His blood slowly spreading across the floor.  
I feel my knees buckle and I grab at the wall to avoid falling. My stomach churns and I vomit all over my shoes and pants.  
In a matter of seconds, sailors and Marines crowd in the hallway to find out what the noise was and are shocked to see the body.  
Jackson comes around the corner, looks at the fallen Marine, and then looks at me.  
"Jesus," Jackson mumbles.  
"I-I- I tried to stop him…." I said, "But he….h-he killed himself."  
"Someone get him out of here," Jackson says.  
"Right," I hear the whisper of Maxes voice from behind me.  
I feel Max grab me and try to take me with him.  
"Come on George," Max whispers. "He-he's dead," I just say, "I-I tried, I tried….Stop him."  
"Come on George," Max repeats.  
Max pulls me away as people move to the side. I try to walk, but the vomit on my shoes makes the floor slippery and without Max there to help, I would fall to the floor, all the while I can't get my eyes off the dead body.

***  
Max and I look of the port side and watch as landing craft's full of Marines are heading straight for the beaches. I am still shaken up about what happened yesterday, the ships medics had to give me some powerful drugs just to get me asleep. I take my binoculars which hang by my neck, and take a look to the beach.  
The beach is swarming with Marines all fighting for their lives and unfortunately, stumbling over the bodies of their comrades. I watch as tracer bullets hit the sand and mortars hit the beach, sending sand and limbs through the air. Some mortar rounds hit the water right next to the landing crafts.  
I take my eyes off the beach, not able to watch any more.  
"As soon as our boys take the beach," Max said, "We should be able to send some more reinforcements and perhaps some armory as well."  
"Yeah," I reply, "But I don't think we will be here long."  
"Whys that?"  
"I heard Jackson saying something that he thinks there will be some Jap ships coming our way."  
"Wanna place a bet on that?"  
"Sure what the hell."  
"Five bucks?"  
"Why not."  
"So if Jackson was right about the ships, five bucks to you. But he is wrong, the five is mine."  
"Sounds fair enough."  
Max and I start walking down the bow.  
"Easiest five bucks ever," Max said.  
"The day I give you five bucks," I said, "Is the day I give a Jap my weapon."  
"The day I give you five bucks," Max laughs, "Is the day I'll swim with sharks."

As we remain in our quarters that night, we all listen for any noise of fighting on Saipan. But we hear nothing, the mood in the air is thick with sadness.  
"Farewell and adieu unto you Spanish ladies," one of our crew named Gerald sings quietly, "Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain."  
We turn our attention to Gerald.  
"For its we've received orders for to sail for old Japan," some start to chime in and change the words a little. "But we hope very soon we shall see you again," everyone starts to sing along and I pitch in.  
"We'll rant and we'll roar like true American sailors!"  
"We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas!" "Until we strike surroundings in the sea of the Pacific!"  
"From Ushant to the Philippines is thirty-five leagues!"

"We hove our ship to with the wind at south east, boys!"  
"We hove our ship to, our soundings to see!"

"What the hell is going on in here?" Jackson orders stepping into the room.  
We all stop singing and look at Jackson.  
"Having fun sir!" one man says.  
"What?" Jackson said.  
"You know sir," Max said, "Its a thing you do that is entertaining. Its the thing that someone deprived from you some years ago!"  
The entire quarters explodes with laughter. Jackson, on the other hand, actually looks like his head will explode.  
"There will be no singing!" Jackson orders and leaves.  
Jackson leaves the barracks and out into the hallway.  
"And you sir," Max said, "Can kiss my ass."  
Max says this while pointing his middle finger into the air.  
The room once again erupts with our cries of laughter. "Oh geez," a man named Chris, "Hey boys, I made a trade with one of the Maines, for this." Chris pulls out a bottle of hooch.  
The men all start to stare at the bottle and gasp in delight.  
"Behold," he said, "Jap liquor, probably tastes like donkey piss. But hey, its booze."  
Chris pulls the top off, takes a sip, and hands it to the next guy.  
"Bah!" the next guy gasps after taking a swig, "Well I can scratch drink gasoline of my list of things to do."  
Some chuckle to his remark.  
"Alright," Max said, "So who here has had a pretty embarrassing or got into a fight in bar?"  
Almost everyone raises their hands, hell, even I do.  
"You George?" Max asks me.  
"Yep," I reply, "It was a pretty embarrassing time."  
"Well come on spill!" "No, no, no."  
"Dammit George! Were trying to start something here!"  
"Alright fine."  
I clear my throat and think back.  
"Well," I said, "I was once in a bar in St Louis, had a couple beers and some whisky, you know. And uh, then a girl walked in, I mean beautiful. So I figured I would go talk to her, see if I could get her. I go over, see if she wants a drink, she says she would like a little red wine. So I go grab her a wine, but as I walk back to her, I trip on a chair leg and I spill the wine all over her front."  
Everyone starts to laugh.  
"Oh it gets worse," I continue, "As I get myself up I grab her upper leg by mistake, as soon as I am up." I laugh a little, "She slaps me across the face and out the door she went!"  
The whole quarters erupt with laughter. 1 "Alright," I said, "I have told mine, now its your turn Max."  
"Alright," Max said, "I have nothing to fear, I do not embarrass myself in bars, I start fights." "Yeah and you get your ass handed to you!" someone yells.  
"No!" Max yells, "I handed their ass to them!" Max rolls his eyes, "Can you just let me tell the damn he story now?"  
"Sure why not," I said.  
"Thank you. Anyway, I was at a bar in San Francisco while I was there visiting family, when this guard from Alcatraz came into the bar. He got buzzed, and started trying to pick fights with thugs in the bar. So, I being a good guy stepped in and tried to get the boozy officer out of the bar. I put my hand on his shoulder and the son of a bitch turned and gave me one in the face! So I tried to get him out once again, and again he swung at me! So I tackle the guy, and we fight on the floor until the guard gets up, stumbles on his feet, and knocks himself unconscious on the bar. Officers come and take him out of the bar, I would have been in jail for a while, if the officer wasn't liquored up!"  
"You didn't start that fight!" one man yells, "You tried to prevent it! You just got in the way!"  
"I can start a fight right now though!" Max yells.  
The bottle is passed around more stories are told.

Chapter: 12 Nathan "This is it," James whispers to Charles, "Tonight we are getting you out of here Charles."  
"You know your course?" I ask.  
"Yes," Charles answers, "Please, I beg of you, come with me. We can all get out of here."  
I shake my head.  
"No," I said, "If Yokima finds more people gone, who knows what the hell he'll will do to the others."  
"But," Charles said, "What if he finds out it was you two?"  
"Well, I guess we'll just have to endure. If he doesn't, we'll try to get more men out of here."  
"You are aware, he can kill you both for this."  
"At this point," James said, "I don't think we give a damn."  
Charles looks at the ground and doesn't say a word.  
"The decision is made," I said, "Were getting you out of here tonight."

***  
The sun set fast over the camp, engulfing the camp in darkness, leaving the lone beams of the search lights as the only source of light. Everything is ready to go, we each got a bayonet, I have the pistol, and Charles has a few rations from the Red Cross which the Japs confiscated. I got the compass and map stuffed into my pants.  
"Alright lets go," I whisper in the barracks.  
We walk over to the back window of the barracks. I poke my head out slowly to check for any guards, but I don't see anyone. Carefully and quietly, I crawl out the window and tell Charles and James to come out, they soon follow.  
Once out of the barracks, we carefully creep around the camp.  
James takes lead and stops at the end of one of the barracks. All that stands in our way is thirty yards of open space, with a Jap in the way, and the searchlight illuminating the area. "We have to get around him, but how?" Charles asks.  
James looks at the ground and picks up a baseball sized rock.  
"I have an idea," James said, "I just got to distract the guard."  
James hunches behind the barrack wall. He looks behind the corner, but pulls back quickly as the light passes. James jumps back out and throws the rock out and I hear the rock hit a barrack wall with a loud bang.  
I look around the corner and see the Jap running towards the sound of the impact, and the light follows him.  
"Lets go," James said, "Come on."  
James runs out with me following and Charles at the rear. In seconds we cross the opening and get up to the barbwire fence. We all start to crawl under and try our hardest not to bump into the cans that work as the alarm.  
"Hit those fucking cans and were dead," I said.  
We manage to get through without too much noise. In seconds we are in the thick jungle and start our walk to the port. As we walk I look back every now and then to see the faintest bit of the camp.

***  
After about an hour, we are outside the shipping port and I can see the Jap's cargo ships, factories, and warehouses. But the thing I stare at the most are the upside down lifeboats that sit along the beach.  
"Alright," I said, "Now we just got to get one of those off the beach, then you will be on your way Charles."  
"Lets take that one," James points at a lifeboat that is closest to us.  
"Lets move."  
We take off for the lifeboat with the beach sand flying at our feet. We get up to the boat and we start to look for a places to pick it up.  
"Alright so well get th-" Charles stops and looks out onto the beach, "Holy shit, get down!" We get down into the sand and I look up to see the silhouette of a Jap soldier running in our direction. "Under the boat," I said.  
Charles and James crawl under the boat, but I cover myself in the boats shadow, hopping that its dark enough that the Jap won't see me. I pull out my bayonet and get ready.  
The Jap stops five feet away from the boat and slowly walks towards it on the other side. Once he is up to the boat, he checks his surroundings and has his back to the boat. In my reaction, I jump from the ground, launch myself from off the boats bottom, and swing the bayonet towards the Japs head right as he turns around. The bayonet's sharp blade hits his face with great force and I land on top of him, knocking him to the ground. As soon as I hit the ground, I spring to my knees and hover right over him, and with the bayonet I start whacking him across the face with the blade until his body goes limp. If it wasn't so dark, I would see the mangled face of the Jap, which I sight I would rather not witness. "Come on," I say under the boat.  
Charles and James crawl out and we start to move the lifeboat towards the water. Once we feel the water hit our feet, we tip the lifeboat over onto its bottom, then we push it further out. When far enough out, we help Charles climb into the boat, for he is too thin and doesn't have enough strength to pull himself in.  
"You alright?" James asks.  
"Yeah just fine," Charles responds.  
"Got your food supply?" I ask.  
"Yeah all good, I got the food, the bayonet, I should be good."  
"Here," I said pulling out the compass and map, "Take these, you're going to need them."  
Charles takes them, looks at them, and looks back at me confused.  
"But," he said, "Won't you need this?"  
"Ah, pissh," I hiss, "Doesn't matter, we'll just have to find another damn one."  
Charles places the compass and map at the bottom of the boat and looks back at.  
"Here, also," I said taking out the Jap pistol and ammo, "You may need this as well."  
"I can't," Charles said, "You may need it."  
"Its fine," James said, "We always got the bayonets."  
"Please, I insist, come with me," Charles urges, "Nothing fucking good will happen when the Japs figure out I'm missing."  
"Sorry Charlie," I said, "As much as it is tempting, I'm staying. James, you can go, I'm not stopping you."  
James looks from Charles, to the lifeboat, then back to me.  
"You know," he said, "I think I will stay, I'm not leaving you alone here, Nathan."  
"Then its settled," I said.  
I look at Charles.  
"Well Charlie," I said, "Good luck to you, send us a postcard."  
I shake Charles hand.  
"Good luck Charlie, we'll see you when the war is over."  
James shakes Charles hand.  
"Good luck to both of you," Charles said, "Thank you both for doing this, I will forever be in debt to you….Goodbye to you both."  
I push the lifeboat out and Charles starts rowing out to sea, at twenty yards out, he waves goodbye.  
"Come on," James said, "We better get back to camp, the sun will be rising soon."

"Everyone out!" Yokima yells outside our barracks, "In the courtyard now!"  
Yokimas goons go barrack-to-barack, forcing us out of bed, and out into the courtyard. In under a minute, everyone is out into the courtyard and lined up. James stands three men away from me as we stand five rows away from Yokima, although we are this far back, I can still see the cruel and anger in his eyes.  
"We have a problem in this camp!" Yokima yells, "One of our birds has flown the coop! And I am under the belief that the man had assistance!...But the question is, who was it!"  
Nobody moves a muscle.  
Yokima walks down the first row of men and looks at each and every one. Once Yokima gets to the end of the line and stares at one of the youngest prisoners, probably no older than 18.  
Out of no where, Yokima grabs the kid by his hair and throws him to the ground. Yokima kicks the kid hard three times, then grabs the collar of his tattered, dirty Marine jacket and drags him front and center. The kid drops down face first into the dirt, but Yokima grabs him by his hair once again and forces him onto his knees.  
Yokima pulls out his pistol and puts the barrel up to the Marines head.  
"So be it!" Yokima yells, "If none of you will come forward! This is what we do! One-by-one, another will die until the one who is guilty steps forward!" The kid looks up to us with a terrified look on his face.  
"Sir this is against the Geneva Convention!" someone yells in a shaky voice.  
Yokima looks at one of his goons and tilts his head towards the man who yelled that.  
The guard walks up to the man, takes him by the arm and forces him forward to the front. "Kare o miru!" Yokima orders a guard.  
The guard walks over to the kid and watches him.  
Yokima gets up to the man who talked out of turn, takes his club, and whacks the man across the head. When the man falls, Yokima takes his club and beats the man several more times on the head, rib cage, and lower back.  
Using the end of his club, Yokima pushes the man over onto his back so that he is looking at him.  
"I am not concerned about the Geneva Convention," Yokima says.  
Yokima kicks the soldier across the face.  
Yokima looks to two of his other guards.  
"Debiruzuden ni kare o toru," he says.  
The Japs walk over, grab the man, and drag him in the direction of the Devils Den.  
Yokima walks back over to the kid who is still on his knees.  
"Where were we?" Yokima says psychotically. Yokima puts the pistol barrel back up to the kids head.  
I want to go up there, but my legs are frozen with fear as I scream inside.  
"You have five seconds!" Yokima yells, "1!...2!...3!...4!..."  
"Stop!" James suddenly yells, "Stop this bullshit! I did it! You heard me! I did it! I helped him escape! To get him away from you! You Jap fucker!"  
Yokima looks at James.  
"Come….Here," Yokima pauses between words.  
James walks forward slowly.  
Finally I feel my legs again and I feel I can speak.  
"James," I gasp, "James! James no!"  
I run towards him and push people out of my way.  
"James God damnit! No!" I yell.  
But by the time I am up front, James is standing in front of Yokima. Suddenly Yokima steps aside, strides up to me, and in a heartbeat he smacks me across the head so hard I fall to the ground. My ear is cut open, I can feel a tooth broken, and blood trickling down my face. The dizziness is the worst part, I can get up off the ground. I look up to see Yokima forcing James to kneel. James looks over at me and gives me a smug little smile.  
"Bye," I can hear him whisper. "BANG!" Yokima pulls the trigger and the bullet passes through James skull with a trail of blood and bits of his brain.  
At that moment, I start to cry my eyes out as I burry my face into the dirt.  
Suddenly I can feel the presence of Yokima right next to me.  
I look up to see him right above me with the bright sun behind his head.  
"I could kill you," Yokima said, "You talked out of turn, you left formation, and you most likely have something to do with the escape. However, I think witnessing the death of your friend and now living without him, is punishment far greater than death."  
Yokima turns around and walks off.  
"Dismissed!" I hear him yell.  
I look at the body of my dear friend.  
"Goodbye my dear friend," I whisper as pass out right there on the spot.  
Chapter: 13 Peter Pavuvu is not that bad, you just got to get over the sand crabs and ignore the fact that most of it is a large shithole. The work that must be done here is a living hell, when I signed up, I thought I would be fighting Japs, not a whole Goddamn island. I went on a few patrols, but we haven't seen any Japs, that is none that are alive. I have seen the bodies of the Japs scattered around the island. There is one part of Pavuvu that is nice, the beach. Sometimes I would go to the down to the beach and go skinny dippin with some friends and comrades. Life is interesting on Pavuvu, even though we have all been through boot camp they still have us run a few drills and work on the firing line. We get to listen to to a little radio, not really much from back home, just whats going on with the war and congress. There is no plumbing on Pavuvu, no toilets and now showers. Whenever there is just the smallest bit of a rainfall, almost everyone will forget what they are doing, walk out into the rain, strip their clothes off, and start to bathe themselves with a bar of soap.  
Today is a pretty slow day, not much work to be done. So now I am laying on my cot like the guys. Except, Shooter who went to get the mail.  
"Mail call!" Shooter burst out walking into the barracks, "Lets see….What the fuck do we got here?" Shooter rummages through the mail, "Mikey."  
Shooter tosses the letter onto Mikey's chest and Mikey begins to open it.  
"Lets see," Shooter continues, "Bill."  
Shooter tosses two letters at Bill, and Bill starts to open them.  
"Ah," Shooter mumbles, "Dan."  
Shooter tosses Dan two letters, and Dan looks at them.  
"Me! Finally." Shooter says tossing his letter onto his bunk, "Ah, Fritz."  
Shooter tosses a letter at Joey.  
"And Finally," Shooter said, "Peter."  
Shooter tosses me the letter.  
I look at the letter, it's from back home, from my wife Linda. I rip open the top and pull out the letter.  
The letter reads:  
Dear Peter,  
Hello my love, I miss you with all my heart, I am lonely without you. The bed is colder at night without you, it will be warmer once you return.  
The pregnancy is going well, I went to the doctor the other day, he says everything is going just fine. I hope you will be home to see the baby when "she" is born. You may call it motherly instincts, but I just have a feeling that the baby will be a girl. But no matter what, we will love it none of the less.  
I'm still working to help the war effort, still working at the factory on the assembly line. It's getting a bit difficult being this far in my pregnancy, but I am happy to help as much as I can.  
Come home soon,  
Love,  
Linda I tear up a little as I read the letter. I look into the envelope and see a small piece of paper inside.  
I pull it out and see its a picture. A picture of Linda, she is posing in our living room, in front of the window, a picture of her at six months pregnant. I look at her smiling face, beautiful hair, and eyes.  
"Whatcha got there Peter?" Bill asks.  
I look at Bill.  
"Picture of my wife," I said.  
"Let me see," Shooter says grabbing the picture out of my hand.  
Everyone looks at the photo.  
"Ooh! Thats a good looking broad," Mikey says, "Wait a sec….You fucked her up?"  
"Watch it Mikey," I said, "Thats my wife you're talking about."  
"Shut it Mikey," Dan said.  
"She's gorgeous," Shooter said handing me back the photo, "That reminds me!" Shooter looks at Bill, "Your sister say anything about me?"  
Bill gives Shooter a smart look.  
"Yes she did," Bill said, "She said, 'stay the hell away from me'."  
We all laugh.  
I look at Dan who is looking at his looking at one of his letters, he has a strange look on his face.  
"What's wrong Dan?" Joey asks.  
Everyone looks at Dan.  
"My brother, Johnny," he said, "He hit Normandy, he survived, he says he is now in France, it doesn't say where, the fucking Army censored his location. Half this entire letter is fucking censored! All I know is that he is alive! I don't know where he is! I don't know his platoon! I don't know fucking anything!"  
Dan jumps up throughs the letter onto the floor and throws a chair into the corner of the barrack.  
"Dan," Shooter says, "Calm down, what were you fucking expecting? The Army not to censor parts, what the fuck do you think would happen to your brother if that letter got in the hands of the Krauts?"  
Dan sits back down on his cot.  
"Yeah sure," Dan just says.  
I never really thought about what it must be like to have a family member who also serves in this war. I guess I will never really know what it must be like to wonder what its like, to always live in wonder if your brother or brothers are dead or alive.  
Joey looks at me, "You got any siblings Peter?" In fact I do, I got two brothers and one sister. I got a younger brother in high school named Berry, he has been debating about joining the Army or the Marines after high school, but he also is planning on becoming a lawyer. As for my second brother is one year younger than me,

**I will work on the rest soon, hope you are enjoying it and please review and leave comments!**


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